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#dr schneeplestein


Part One of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. In a different world, the characters we know and love have been switched around. Jackie's a doctor while his friend Schneep goes out at night dressed as a superhero. JJ is a successful magician, and his roommate Marvin is from another time period. And let's not forget Anti, the YouTuber/computer programmer. Soon the five friends find themselves targeted by someone—or something—else.]
[One evening, a magic show is interrupted and thrown into chaos. Luckily, the local vigilante is there to take care of things, though he's not expecting the magician to have REAL magic.]
.............................................................................................

The final trick of the magic show left the audience gasping in awe. Fantastic acts of illusion, of blue firefly lights that hovered above their heads, of water that seemed to float and dance in the hair. The masked magician swept his top hat off his head and bowed as the crowd applauded and roared. “Thank you, thank you, you’re too kind!” he said cheerfully, the mic pinned to his tuxedo picking up his voice easily and broadcasting it over the audience’s heads. “It’s time for our intermission now, so please, take ten minutes to get refreshments, use the facilities, and give your children time to stretch their legs. I promise I’ll still be here when you return. Thank you, and have a good evening!” With one final bow, the velvet curtains swept closed.

The magician pulled his mask up so it rested on top of his hair. It was made in the masquerade style, white with purple markings, and a blue outline of a star in the center of its forehead. He rubbed his eyes as the stage crew rushed about, making sure nothing happened to the stage decorations in the first thirty minutes of the show. Hour-long magic shows didn’t usually have an intermission, but the magician felt it was best for him, so that he had time to recharge out of the crowd’s eye.

Speaking of the intermission, he had someone he want to check on. He replaced his top hat but not his mask, and exited stage left. He dodged around scurrying stage crew in black until he found who it was he wanted to see. A man in a brown suit jacket with a green vest underneath, leaning on a wooden cane, was chatting with the stage manager, Darla. The magician strolled up to the pair of them, and the man looked over at him.

“Hello Jems!” The man said with a smile. “The show’s goin’ well so far. I watched it all on the tiny television. You did a good job wit’ t’at last one!”

Jameson Jackson grinned back. Marvin knew he’d been having trouble with that one, so it was good to hear that encouragement. JJ turned to Darla and pointed to the door leading from the backstage area to the dressing room hallway.

“Yes, you should be good to leave,” Darla said. She’d been working with Jameson long enough to interpret him easily when he went silent. “Just be back about a minute before the intermission ends.”

JJ nodded in understanding, then turned to Marvin with a question. “Yes, yes, ‘m comin’,” Marvin said. He shifted his weight off the cane and into a better walking position. “Lead the way.”

The two of them exited the backstage area and entered the warren of hallways the venue had for storage and rooms for the visiting performers to stay. It was low-lit, with gray-blue carpet and matching wallpaper. “How’s everything going for you so far?” JJ asked. “Good first impression of what goes on behind the scenes of the shows?”

“Oh, it’s been grand s’far,” Marvin replied. “Not much has changed from back in the day. Still busy worker bees rushin’ around. Y’even have cameras! And they’re so much better!”

JJ laughed. “Technology has made leaps and bounds. They didn’t have live video back then, did they?”

“They had television,” Marvin said defensively. “But it was a new invention. I’d never t’ink of filming t'at was—was at the same time! Wonderful!” The note of excitement in his voice was evident.

“Well, glad you’re having fun.” Jameson gave Marvin a quick one-armed squeeze. “But now, I must do as I told the audience to and get a snack. I burned up a lot of magic onstage.”

“Oh! I’ll join you! If t’at’s okay.”

“No problem, my friend. After all, you don’t have money on you, remember?”

“Ah. T'at would be a problem.”

The foyer of the venue was crowded with audience members, most of them looking to be in their 30′s or 40′s, going about their business. Getting concessions, disappearing into the bathrooms, making calls on their phones. A lot of them recognized the magician as he came out. Jameson braced himself as he saw them approaching, politely listening to their chatter with a smile and a nod, but no words. Marvin glared at them, edging in between JJ and the spectators. The crowd quickly caught on not to bother JJ, unless they wanted to have his prickly friend shooting daggers of death at them from his eyes.

“Thanks,” JJ whispered under his breath as the two of them approached the concessions stand.

“Why d’you even do these shows if you hate the crowds?” Marvin asked.

“It’s not a problem when they’re far away,” JJ shrugged. “Or when there are too many to look at at once. The problem is in conversation. And besides, why would I not do the shows? That would deprive people of this…this wonder! And amazement! You can hear it in their cheers. No matter their problems or unhappiness, they can find some excitement for just a little.”

Marvin shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Only you woul’ say t'at. But I t'ink some of these people need to learn some manners.” He glared at someone. “T’at man there has been lurkin’ in the corner t’is whole time and starin’ at ev’ryone.”

JJ glanced over to the man in question. He was tall and pretty well-built, dressed in a dark suit and standing ramrod-straight with his arms folded. “He’s fine, some people just don’t like to chat.” But if Jameson was being honest, the man was giving him an odd vibe. He shook it off and asked, “So, what treat do you want anyway?”

Marvin didn’t respond. His gaze has switched to the opposite end of the foyer. “There’s another one over there,” he said, faintly surprised. “Wearin’ the same getup and ev'rything.” He glanced around. “There’s more of them. Quite a lot, actu’lly.” All of a sudden, he grabbed Jameson’s arm. “Jems, I t’ink they’re up to no good.”

Jameson gave some of the men Marvin had pointed out a once-over. It was a bit…odd that all of these men were dressed similarly, built similarly, and standing around the edge of the crowd in a similar manner. As he watched, one of them reached inside his suit jacket…

“Marvin!” Jameson squeaked. “We have to get out of here!” He grabbed and tried to pull him away, but he was going too fast and Marvin stumbled, falling into him.

“Jems? What’s happen—”

BANG!

The loud sound of a gunshot rang throughout the venue. One person screamed, and then the crowd started to panic, scattering like rats faced with a hungry cat. In turn, the men in suits fired more shots into the air, pointing the muzzles of their guns at fleeing audience members. “Nobody move!” One of the men shouted. “Nobody’s gonna leave this room unless they want a bullet in their brain!” The crowd stopped trying to leave the foyer and instead clustered in the center.

The man who’d spoken, presumably the leader, presumably marked by the fact that he was the only one wearing a blue tie instead of a black one, yelled again. “All of you, line up against the walls! Sit down! Any sudden moves get fired at. Now!” The crowd hurried to comply.

Marvin and Jameson ended up pressed against the wall near the concessions stand, sitting huddled on the floor. Marvin looked over at his friend with wide eyes. “Ar’ya alrigh’?” he whispered.

JJ nodded. “They weren’t shooting people. But they might.” He shuddered. “Why is this happening? This can’t have anything to do with the show.”

The group of suited men were now in the center of the room, talking among themselves. Jameson narrowed his eyes at them. He muttered some words, and small wisps of blue light curled briefly around his head. Suddenly, the words of the suited men were as clear as if he’d been standing next to him.

“—the police, tell them about the…heh, situation.”

“And don’t forget to mention the demands this time.”

“Or the hostages.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, I get it. One mistake, and you’re branded for the rest of your life.”

“Well, this is the most people we got, most of them rich bastards, so there’s a bit less of a chance for error and a bit more of a chance for a bigger payday we can’t afford to mess up.”

Jameson subtly shook his head to clear the spell away. He leaned a bit closer to Marvin. “Sounds like they’re hoping to get the police to give them something. And so they’re keeping hostages to make sure their demands are met.”

“And t’at’s us?” Marvin’s grip on his cane tightened. “How’re we goin’ t’get outta t’is?”

“I…don’t know. Maybe we can just wait for the police to take care of things.”

“Who’s talking?” The leader of the gang turned around, eyes sweeping the room. “This is your only warning: no more talking, or we might start to feel the room’s a little crowded.”

Dead silence. Marvin and JJ exchanged looks of fear.
.............................................................................................

"All units: we have a hostage situation at the Orchester. I repeat, hostage situation at the Orchester. At least 100 patrons are trapped along with an unknown number of crew. Suspects are armed."

“Volt, you suddenly went quiet. You okay?”

Schneep shook his head. Maybe listening to the police scanner while also trying to have a phone call with Jackie was not a good idea. “Yes, I am fine,” he said. “I just got something interesting on the scanner.”

“Wouldn’t happen to do with the gang that’s threatening the local theatre, would it?”

“Ah…” Schneep coughed uncomfortably. “How do you know that?”

“Rama just turned on the news,” Jackie explained, referencing the name of his spouse. “Anyway, Volt, don’t you dare go check that out.”

“Why not?” Schneep asked, almost whining. “I am already out on patrol. There are people who need help. Seems like easy equation.”

“Well, last time you went out, you basically collapsed of smoke inhalation!” Jackie said sharply. “You barely made it to my house in time! And you’re still recovering, you shouldn’t even have gone out!”

“I am fine, it should not be too difficult.” Schneep was already making his way through the city streets in the direction of the theatre.

“It shouldn’t be—you are ONE GUY going against a gang of MULTIPLE ARMED PEOPLE. C’mon, dude. You know I’m okay with this in general, but I also don’t want you to die! Let the police take care of this.”

“Sorry, Jackie, I am passing through a tunnel, you are breaking up.”

“Don’t pull that shit on me, Volt, I know you parkour.”

“What? I—kssh—cannot—kssh—hear you I have—kssh—hang—kssh—up.” And with no further words, Schneep hung up on Jackie and tucked the phone into the hidden pocket inside his suit. He was so lucky he wasn’t too far from the Orchester theatre. If he ran, he should be able to make it in a few minutes.

And indeed he did. The place had cops on all sides, which was unfortunate, seeing as how the police weren’t the biggest fan of him. They didn’t look too kindly on vigilantes who ran around with homemade gadgets that were usually much more useful than whatever they had. He’d have to be clever. Luckily, there seemed to be a weak spot in the police’s blockade near the side alley, a stretch where they’d only stationed one officer, who was currently sitting in his car drinking coffee from a thermos. Schneep slipped past him easily, and after a bit of slinking around the edge, he found a side door and slid inside.
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The hostages had been trapped inside for an hour. An hour of absolute silence and stillness, watching the gang and the guns they carried. Nobody had managed to get away, not even the stage crew. Apparently the gang had sent members backstage to make sure there was no chance of letting anyone get away.

Marvin and JJ were uncomfortable, to say the very least. And Jameson was started to wonder if there was more he could be doing to help the situation. The problem was that most of his spells were incantation-based, and he didn’t know if he wanted to risk the gang hearing him. He also wasn’t sure if trying out a spell would even help, or if it would just make everything worse.

He was interrupted from his internal debate by Marvin tapping him on the arm. When he gave him a confused look, Marvin carefully and subtly pointed to the balcony with his cane. Jameson turned his attention toward it. The balcony was supposed to lead to the…well, balcony seats, as well as have a few shortcuts for the lighting crew. Nobody was up there, as the gang had forced everyone down to the ground level. Except…somebody was up there, crouching and staring through the railing at the gang below. He was wearing a long gray coat, a blue belt, and blue gloves. A black mask covered the lower half of his face.

Wait…Jameson remembered seeing that outfit on the news. It was that vigilante, Voltage or something like that. JJ’s head whipped back toward Marvin with wide eyes. Marvin shrugged, confused.

They both watched as the vigilante stood up, and with absolutely no warning leaped over the railing and right off the balcony. Amazingly, he landed on his feet, and seemed to be perfectly fine despite a fall from that height being enough to at the very least snap an ankle. “You people are ruining a perfectly good night at the theatre!” he shouted.

Immediately, every single member of the gang turned toward him, guns raised. “Shoot him!” the leader cried.

But Voltage was already moving before the command was even given. The bullets riddled the wall where he’d just been standing, following him across the room. The hostages sitting around the edges screamed, shrinking closer to the ground. “Stay down, all of you!” Voltage shouted, clearly aimed at the hostages. He was now standing next to a large brass pot holding a plant. He kicked it, and it flew across the room much faster than it should have, hurling toward the gang, most of whom scattered.

“I told you to shoot him!” the leader yelled. “Where’d he go?!”

Voltage hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d just followed the path of the pot right into the center of the gang. He grabbed the nearest man from behind. There was a zap, and an arc of blue-white electricity came from Voltage’s gloves. The man fell to the ground, unconscious. Voltage instantly ducked, avoiding a hail of bullets and causing some of the gang members to shoot each other. He launched himself across the floor and grabbed another by the legs, shocking him unconscious too.

There were still too many. Jameson counted. Fifteen left, but four of those had been shot and were clutching their torsos where the wounds were, pretty much out of commission. So eleven left. That was too much. Voltage was good, but it was only through sheer luck that he hadn’t been shot yet. Jameson’s mind whirled, thoughts fueled by adrenaline. He had to do something.

The gang was focused on Voltage, still somehow surviving. Jameson stood up, and crept a bit closer to the fray, hoping to not be noticed. “Jems!” Marvin hissed. “Are you mad?!” When JJ didn’t bother to answer, Marvin growled and started crawling after him.

Jameson took a deep breath, and pulled his mask down onto his face. “Ixáplose, lakoi’vai,” he whispered, kneeling and touching the ground with his fingertips. A puddle of blue magic crept out from the spots where his fingers touched, spreading rapidly across the floor, heading straight for the conflict. Once the puddle reached the men’s feet, they slipped. One by one, falling and crashing to the ground. Except for Voltage, who was standing in the middle of the magic puddle perfectly alright, if shocked. His eyes followed the path of the puddle back to its source, and even under the mask JJ could see the surprise and shock on his face.

Still, Voltage recognized an opportunity, and by the time the remaining members of the gang had gotten to their feet and scrambled away from the puddle, another seven had been shocked to unconsciousness. “What the fuck?!” shouted one of the men.

The leader did the same thing Voltage did and followed the magic’s path. “You!” he roared. “I don’t know what the fuck you did, but you’ll pay!” He raised his gun.

JJ dove to the side, managing to avoid getting killed, though he felt a streak of pain, and looked down to see the bullet had grazed his arm. He scrambled back to his feet, gasping out a basic shield spell just in time for bullets to ricochet oft the sudden blue icy barrier. He closed his eyes, simply concentrating on keeping the shield up. He heard what was happening: more gunshots, more shouting, more footsteps, more electric zaps.

Until: “Stop right there, or I swear I’ll blow his brains out!”

The room went silent. JJ opened his eyes to see that all the gang members had been knocked out except for three and the leader. Voltage was standing, frozen, in the middle of the room, staring at the leader and—Jameson felt his heart stop. The shield spell flickered and died. “Marvin!” he gasped.

The gang leader was holding Marvin close to him with one arm, and holding a gun to the side of his head with the other. Marvin himself only looked sort of annoyed, but Jameson knew him well enough to see the way his hands were trembling, holding his cane tight for comfort. The leader turned to look at Jameson. “This a friend of yours, huh?” he sneered. “Well, get back to where you’re supposed to be and stop this freaky shit, and he’ll be fine.”

“Do not tell him what to do!” Voltage yelled. JJ was faintly surprised at the accent in his voice. “I thought your fight was with me!”

“Well, you too,” the leader shrugged. “Leave this place, and nobody gets hurt. Or you can take off your shocky gloves and join the others around the wall, I’m not too picky.”

Voltage laughed dryly. “Ah yes, your one redeeming quality. You think I will just leave all these people here?!”

“I dunno, it’s kinda hard to tell with—”

The leader didn’t get to finish his sentence. Marvin had adjusted the way he was holding the cane, and then slammed the end of it down into the leader’s foot. He yelped, and his grip loosened just enough for Marvin to pull away and land sprawling on the floor. “You little—” the leader didn’t get to finish that one either, or finish aiming the gun at Marvin like he’d started to, because all of a sudden a shard of blue magic came flying out of nowhere and hit him in the head. He stumbled, and looked around as if he’d forgotten what he was doing. This entire sequence was just long enough for Voltage to charge forward and zap the leader out cold.

Voltage spun around and glared at the three remaining gang members. “Well?” he demanded. The men dropped their guns and raised both hands in the air. “That’s what I thought. Kick those away from you.” They did so. Voltage nodded once, then addressed the room at large. “I will open the front doors in a moment. I advise you all to leave once that happens. And do not be afraid to relax now.” Gradually, the crowd began chattering again. Voltage began kicking all the gang members’ guns into a little pile, occasionally shooting glares at the ones remaining conscious.

JJ rushed forward, kneeling next to Marvin. “Marvin! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fuckin’ fantastic. Got t’reatened to end up in the ground, gave a man the stomp, then he got bumped in the head after his whole gang got a beatin’, and now me legs stopped workin’. Average day.”

Jameson laughed. Yep, Marvin was fine. “Good to hear it. Need some help?”

“N…possibly.” Marvin let JJ grab him by the hand and help him up, though he stumbled and ended up leaning on JJ much more than he wanted to.

Voltage walked over to the two of them. “You are okay?” he asked.

“We’re fine,” JJ said with a quavery smile. “Thank you for all your help.”

“It is no problem. I am just doing what is the right thing. But usually…” he gave Jameson a scan with his eyes. “…Usually in these situations I do not meet someone who can do things like that.”

“Oh, ah…” JJ laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I can’t really explain it. It’s just…something I’ve been born with. Magic, that is.”

“Hmm…” Voltage put his hands on his hips. “I did not think magic was real, but after this…”

“It’s not your beeswax, Mister Voltage,” Marvin growled, giving the hero a prompt whack on the shoulder with his cane topper. Unfortunately, that meant he suddenly lost a support to lean on, and he fell onto JJ, who stumbled before regaining his balance.

“Excuse me, that is Von Voltage.” The words were lacking the snap they were probably intended to have. Voltage was too busy watching JJ struggle to keep Marvin upright. “You did not get your little legs injured during this whole thing, did you?”

“Wh—no,” Marvin said, looking mildly offended. “This is an…unrelated issue. I’ve dealt with it for a long time, nothin’ you need t’concern with.”

Voltage gave him a skeptical look. Then he reached inside a coat and pulled out a phone. Apparently those gloves of his were able to interact with the touch screen just fine. “Well, if that is the case, I am going to give you a phone number. It is not one you have to use, but if you ever need a good doctor I have a friend who would love to assist.”

“I don’ have a phone,” Marvin muttered.

“But it’s okay, because I do.” Jameson awkwardly rummaged around one-handed in his pockets before pulling out said phone. “What’s the number and the name?”

He quickly typed in the number Voltage recited. “His name is Dr. Jackie Parker,” the hero explained. “Is a very good doctor, and I know he will not turn away a person in need.”

“Ah…thank you,” Marvin said quietly. He looked a little shocked at the turn of events. Jameson hoped he would actually consider contacting the doctor. Marvin was one of the most stubborn people he knew, and he didn’t want that to impact his health.

“Is no problem,” Voltage waved it off. “And now, if you excuse me, I am going to open the front doors real quick and then leave right after. Police are not too fond of me.” And with that, he strolled away.

JJ looked at Marvin, who was still basically putting all his weight on him. “Do you want to stand up or sit down.”

“I can—I can stand.” With some effort and the help of his cane, Marvin managed to regain his balance. “T’is has cert’inly been…a night.”

“Tell me about it. Probably my most eventful show, though not in a good way. I do hope that not a lot of people saw what was going on with the magic. Hopefully the police will attribute it to shock. They’re also going to want to check you for shock too, given the whole gun thing.”

“Shock? I don’ understand. Von Voltage didn’ touch me.”

Jameson paused. “No, like…like shellshock? That was a thing back then, right?”

“Ohhhh.”

“They’ll probably give you one of those shock blankets.”

“I get a free blanket?!” Marvin looked oddly excited at the prospect.

JJ laughed. “No, no, you don’t get to keep it. It’s property of the police.”

“Aw.” Marvin glanced over to the front entrance of the venue. “The doors are openin’. Ready to face the world?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Come on, let’s go outside finally.”
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“Volt…” Jackie sounded exhausted on the other end. “I can’t believe you actually did that.”

Schneep, watching the police scene around the theatre from on top of a nearby rooftop, sighed. “Well, you would not expect better of me, would you?”

“I really shouldn’t, but I always do. How’s your breathing? The lingering effects of the smoke didn’t bother you?”

“Ah, a little bit of tightness, but I am fine.”

“If I ever find out you’re lying, you do realize I’m going to strap you to your bed and force you to rest.”

“Well, I do now.” Schneep fell silent for a moment, watching the former hostages being helped and talked to by the cops. “I saw…the most unusual thing tonight, Jackie. I do not know how else to describe it than…magical.”

“Really?” Jackie asked, intrigued.

“Also I gave someone your phone number.”

“What?!” Now Jackie sounded less intrigued and more mad. “Henrik, for the love of god. Not only is that a bad idea because of the general ‘don’t give phone numbers to strangers’ rule, but also whoever it is now knows you’re somehow connected to me!”

“Trust me Jackie, the two of them are good people. And they…seemed in need of a bit of help.” Though that one in the jacket and vest also seemed pretty obstinate. “Now, do you want to hear about this magic I saw or should I show up at your house in full Von Voltage gear and give your family a heart attack?”

“Michelle would be excited to know her honorary uncle is a real live superhero,” Jackie said thoughtfully. “But yeah, Rama would freak out. So, tell me the story of what happened.”

“You are going to want to sit down for this one,” Schneep said, grinning.

And as the evening faded completely into night, a new life dawned on the four who’d been touched that day. None of them knew where it was heading, but they all knew things would never be the same again.



Part Fifteen of The Stitched AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a completed fanfic series of mine with 24 total chapters. I started this October of 2018 and finished it May of 2021. Shaken by the reveal of the truth behind Anti, Jack, JJ, and Chase flee to find somewhere else to stay. Meanwhile, Schneep goes through a series of strange events.]
.............................................................................................

It was a lovely morning to be waiting on a doorstep so you could ask the house’s occupants if you and your friends could stay there because the place where you’d previously been staying had been found by the demon who’d been hunting you.

This thought passed through Chase’s head just before he rang the doorbell for a second time. He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound almost hysterical.

'Are you okay, Chase?' JJ asked. He was leaning heavily on Jack, his ankle still injured.

Chase shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Guess I’m a little…frazzled.” And who wouldn’t be? He’d just found out the monster chasing them was actually their dead friends fused together, then one of his friends turned out to have magic and proceeded to disappear, and now they’d been run out of Jack’s apartment, where they’d been staying, and he’d turned to the last relatively-safe place he knew. Assuming that she’d let them stay, of course.

The door swung open. There was a woman standing in the doorway, blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. She was wearing the uniform of the diner she worked at, so she must’ve just gotten off a shift. For a moment, she just stared at the three men on her doorstep. And then she gasped out, “Chase?!”

Chase coughed awkwardly. “Hi, Stace. It…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“You’re damn right!” Stacy’s tone wasn’t angry, just bewildered. “Wh—what are you doing here?! What are THEY doing here?!”

“Long story,” Chase sighed. “Can…can we come inside first?”

Stacy silently stood aside, letting the group enter the house.

The suburban house was relatively small, but it was very neat and tidy. There was a couch pressed against the window, a television against the opposite wall, an armchair, a coffee table, and two tiny bean bags in the corner, one yellow, one pink. Jack guided JJ over to the couch, where they both immediately collapsed.

“What the hell is going on?!” Stacy asked. “I don’t see you in person for months, your friends say you’ve disappeared but won’t tell me what’s going on, then next thing I know you’re back, and whenever you call me you won’t tell me what’s going on or why you can’t see our kids!”

“I told you, it’s dangerous,” Chase said tiredly.

“What—okay, I-I understand that, but if that’s the case, why are you here now?” Stacy spluttered. “If you’re in danger, why’re you bringing it here? The place where there’s a five-year-old and an eight-year old?!”

“I know, it’s stupid, I’m sorry,” Chase mumbled.

Stacy paused. Chase normally would’ve been more defensive. There was something wrong here. She looked around at the group. “Where’s your doctor friend?” she asked.

Chase flinched. “You, um, noticed he wasn’t here?”

“Well, yeah, the other two are here, and you guys almost always travel in a group,” Stacy said. “Is…is something wrong? Where is he?”

“He’s…we don’t know where he is,” Jack piped up. “It’s a long story.”

“You keep saying that,” Stacy sighed.

“Well it is,” Jack said. “Look, I’m sorry, Stacy, but our last safe place has just been…found out. We don’t know where else to go.”

“…huh.” Stacy ran her hand through her hair, and loosened her ponytail.

“If you kick us out, we’ll find somewhere else,” Chase said.

“I’m not gonna kick you out,” Stacy scowled. “Not now that you’re here. I just—”

“Mom?”

Everyone in the room paused. Standing in the doorway connecting the living room to the rest of the house were two young girls. The taller, toffee blonde one was holding the hand of the shorter, sandy blonde one. Stacy smiled at them. “Hey sweeties.”

The shorter one was holding a plush doll in one hand. Her eyes widened. “Daddy? Is that you?”

Chase waved. “Hi, Lily. Yes, It’s me. Hello, Moira. It’s good to see you.”

“What’re you doing here?” Moira asked, squeezing her sister’s hand.

“It’s complicated, honey,” Chase said. “Me and my friends are gonna be staying here for a while.”

Lily gasped, suddenly looking delighted. “Yea!” She broke free from Moira’s hand, running over to Chase. She threw her arms around him. Chase froze, stiffening. His eyes darted around the room, landing on every adult. Lily was totally unaware of her father’s distress.

Moira, however, wasn’t. “Lils, come on, let’s let them talk for a bit.”

“Aw, okay.” Lily let go and retreated back to the hall, and she and Moira disappeared back into the house.

Chase went and sat down in the armchair, covering his mouth and shaking slightly. Jack stood up and took another seat closer to Chase, though he didn’t move to touch him.

Stacy stared at all of this in silence. “This…this is all so confusing,” she said. “Chase, what…?”

“I-I don’t want to talk about it,” Chase said, the sound muffled by his hand. “Just…can we have some time?”

Stacy nodded slowly. “Alright. You can explain to me later, if you want to. I’ll…I’ll be around.” And she turned and left.”

After a long moment of silence, Chase took a deep breath. He straightened. “Okay. I think we need to decide where to go from here. For starters…” He looked at Jack. “How’d you just instantly come to the conclusion that Anti was Jackie and Marvin? Just…h-how?”

“Um…well…” Jack shifted on his seat. “Me and JJ were talking about this yesterday. I, uh, apparently have magic vision now.”

“What?! Since when?!”

“Since JJ replaced my eye.” Jack tapped the skin under his right eye, the one that was brighter blue than the other. “We’re still not sure why, but it…it means I can sea people’s souls.”

“You can what?!” Chase could only gape at him.

“Yeah. They look like glowing balls of light in people’s chests.”

Chase folded his arms unconsciously, over his chest. “Can…you see mine?”

“Yeah, it’s yellow. And it has these…” Jack shook his head. “I-I don’t know, these groove things. I think it’s because of what An—anyway.” He coughed. “How I knew they were him, was that…I looked at Anti’s soul, and it was a bunch of red and blue…shard-like things. Held together by that green string. You remember that? I-I saw it, and I reached forward, and I pulled it out…and then Anti disappeared and we found Marvin and Jackie. Later, I-I looked at them with this soul vision, and they…didn’t have…normal soul lights. They both had red and blue shards.”

'There was evidence that Marvin and Jackie preformed a transference spell before they died.' JJ said. 'It’s black magic. Very black magic. It takes apart people’s souls and switches the pieces around, then enhances them. It will give the two participants special abilities, but at a cost. It must’ve gone wrong, and somehow Anti is the result.'

Chase laughed. “Okay. Cool. That’s fine. What…what do we do about that? Ho-how do we get them back?”

Jameson froze. 'Chase…' he signed slowly. 'I don’t think there’s a way to get—'

“Shut up!” Chase shot to his feet. “Of course there’s a way! There has to be a way! They—they’re probably stuck in there! We have to get them back!”

Chase. Jameson leaned forward, trying to be gentle. 'If their souls were torn apart—'

“There has to be a way!” Chase repeated insistently. “I mean, if magic is real, then we can fix this! I-I know maybe you’ve never heard of one, fancy magic man, but you’ve never heard of something like Anti, either! So there’s got to be a way!” He looked at Jack. “Right?”

“Wh—I mean, yeah, of course,” Jack nodded. “That makes sense. Besides, we’ll never know if we don’t try.”

Jameson shank back, looking a little ashamed. 'I’m sorry.' The signs were small. 'I suppose you two are right. I was just trying…' He stopped. 'You’re right. We need to try.'

“Yeah, but first, we need to find Schneep,” Jack said. “What…what happened to him?”

“I dunno, I guess it’s his magic. That he suddenly has. For some reason,” Chase mumbled. He sat back down, shrinking into the cushions of the arm chair.

“Yeah, what is that kind of magic anyway? Where did it come from?” Jack wondered.

Jameson shrugged. 'I’m unsure for that latter question, but for the former, it appears Henrik can teleport, somehow. Or maybe it’s that he somehow affects the world around him to make regular walking easier for him. Like wormholes.'

A hint of a smile drifted across Chase’s face. “Yeah, explain it to him like it’s wormholes, he’d like that more.” The smile faded away. “So, he freaked out and teleported away. Where did he go? How would we find him? He didn’t have his phone on him, so we can’t even take the risk of Anti finding us to call him.”

“I guess we’ll have to find him the old-fashioned way,” Jack figured. “By looking around and walking for him.”

“That could take forever!” Chase gasped.

'Yes, but it’s the best we can do,' JJ said. He winced. 'Or rather, it’s the best YOU can do. I’m afraid that I’m still in no condition to walk around. I do appreciate that you two helped me here, but I would just slow down your search.'

“It’s okay, JJ,” Jack reassured him. “It’s best if you just stay here and heal up.”

“Should we start looking for him now?” Chase wondered. “I mean, the sooner the better, right? But we did just get here. Would it be weird to leave right away?”

“I don’t think it would be,” Jack shrugged. “We can just tell Stacy where we’re going, and when we’re gonna be back.”

'Yes, I think it would be better to start earlier,' JJ added. 'Who knows where Henrik could be now? He could have gone a long way, and be getting even further.'

“No time to waste, then,” Chase said, nodding. He stood up again. “C’mon, let’s get going.”
.............................................................................................

With no further ado, Chase and Jack went back out onto the streets of the city. The morning was clear, with a few wispy clouds high in the sky. It was an average morning, with people strolling out along the streets, going about their various business. Chase and Jack would occasionally stop one of them, asking if they’d seen a man who looked similar to the two of them. None of them had.

They stopped for a break around noon, the spring sun high in the sky. They sat down on the curb of the sidewalk. “Should we get something to eat?” Jack asked. “We’ve been out for a while. And we didn’t exactly have a good breakfast.”

Chase shrugged. “I dunno. Whatever you want.”

“Well, I don’t want to go somewhere just for me,” Jack said. “So are you hungry?”

Chase just shrugged again.

Jack stopped talking, looking at Chase and frowning. Something was up, he could tell. Chase was being pretty…passive. “Are you okay, dude?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Chase balled his fists, scrunching up his pants.

“You don’t look fine,” Jack pointed out.

“Well, I am.”

“No, you’re not,” Jack insisted. “C’mon, you can tell me what’s up.”

“You wouldn’t care about what’s up!” Chase suddenly burst out. He gasped, hand flying to cover his mouth.

Jack was left speechless. “…what?””

Chase suddenly stood up, quickly walking away, down the sidewalk. Jack didn’t hesitate to follow, rushing to catch up.

“Chase?! Chase!” Jack called after him. Chase didn’t turn around, pushing past people on the sidewalk as he rushed away. “Chase! Slow down!” Jack picked up the pace until he was able to reach out and grab Chase by the shoulder. With a yelp, Chase spun around, pushing away Jack’s hand. “You can’t just say something like that! Of course I’d care!”

For a moment, Chase looked like he wanted to keep running. Then he slumped. “I know, I know you would, I-I don’t know why I said that. I just…you have all your shit going on, it feels stupid to bring you into mine, too.”

“No, it’s not. It’s exactly the opposite of stupid. Bring me into your shit. Tell me what’s going on!”

“No, it’s stupid, it really is.” Chase folded his arms, looking down at the ground.

“Well, I’m not gonna drop it until you tell me what’s going on,” Jack said. “So might as well get it over with.”

Chase looked around. There weren’t a lot of people around, and definitely none in earshot. He sighed. “It’s just…you have a cool power, dude. JJ has magic. Schneep has magic, apparently. And then I’m just…here.” He blinked furiously, eyes watering. “I don’t do anything. All that I’ve done is get kidnapped, possessed, get un-possessed, and now I can’t handle anything! I can’t even fucking let my own daughter give me a hug without freezing up! And you guys are doing great! You’ve all had to deal with shit, and you’re not like this! So why am I—just—worthles—” He choked up. And he realized tears were leaking from his eyes.

Jack took this all in, staying silent. His expression was hard to read. And then he stepped closer to Chase, taking care not to touch him. “Chase Brody, never say that you’re worthless.”

“Okay,” Chase said automatically.

“No, I mean it. You think we would’ve gotten this far without you? No! You remember when you shot Anti, despite him still having a hold on you? That was the most badass shit I’ve ever seen! And that was you! You’re amazing!”

“But you guys—”

“No no no, stop it,” Jack said firmly. “Stop comparing yourself to the rest of us, we’re not all the same. You’re right, we’ve all had to deal with shit, and it’s all been different shit. You notice how Henrik avoids going to sleep? Or how I couldn’t leave the apartment for two whole months and outside still kinda freaks me out? None of us are doing great.” Jack shook his head. “And even if it was the same shit, we still would’ve reacted differently. Because we’re different people, and comparing yourself to others only hurts. If there’s any comparison you should be doing, it’s to yourself. And Chase, you are doing so much better. Think of how you were doing a few months ago. You’ve been improving. And yeah, maybe you don’t have magic, but you’re still strong. And don’t you forget it.”

Chase’s tears were still flowing, but for a different reason. “Thanks, Jack.” His voice cracked. “I guess I needed that.”

Jack smiled. “If you ever need it again, just tell me.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind.” Chase wiped his face on his sleeve. He took a deep breath. “Alright. So, we keep going, then?”

“We keep going.” Jack nodded. “We’re bound to find Schneep eventually.”

Yet, the sun lowered in the sky, the blue faded to pink and then purple, the hours passed, and they still hadn’t found him. They returned back to Stacy’s house, agreeing to look again tomorrow.
.............................................................................................

He didn’t know where he was.

He didn’t know how he got there.

He’d been back in the apartment. Anti had appeared. Anti had taunted them, telling them that he was the other two. And somehow, he knew this wasn’t a lie. Marvin and Jackie had been acting so odd once they’d returned, and he couldn’t…he couldn’t feel where they were, like he could with other people. Now, he wondered if that ability to feel people had anything to do with…what else he could do.

He didn’t know how to describe what happened next. He wanted a weapon, so he reached over and grabbed one. He wanted to attack, to be at the front of the action, and all of a sudden Anti was right in front of him. And so he fought. He fought for the two who’d gone and the three who remained. But it was too much. Things were spiraling out of control. He’d take one step, and suddenly the room reoriented around him, and he was somewhere else entirely. It was spinning around him, he was one place and then another. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t steady himself. His head was swimming. It hurt. He screamed, and then he was somewhere else.

It was a strange place, he knew that much. The texture of the walls were unfamiliar, the furniture in unexpected places, the sound of a construction crew nearby completely different. He couldn’t hear or feel anyone nearby. Maybe it was a living room. In a house he’d never been in.

His vision was different. Well, it was still effectively gone, but that static that he’d been seeing ever since coming out of the Nightmare had disappeared. It was instead replaced with plain blackness. Alright, that was a slight improvement, but why?

He tripped across a wrinkle in the rug, falling to the floor with a cry. He didn’t stand up again. There was probably other things to trip over.

After what felt like an hour, he heard the muffled sound of footsteps. Someone was coming, he could FEEL it. That got him to climb to his feet. He headed for the nearest wall, feeling along the perimeter of the room. There had to be somewhere to hide, or somewhere to get out, SOMEWHERE TO GET OUT—

And then the wall disappeared. The sound of construction was replace by tweeting birds and a cool breeze. He stumbled as the floor under his feet became uneven, turning into soft dirt.

“What the fuck…?” He muttered.

“Hey!” Someone shouted. He cried out, turning towards the sound. Someone was coming closer. “This is private property!”

“I-I am sorry, I-I do not know how—how I got—” he stammered.

“Speak proper English, please,” the someone said dismissively. “Stay here while I call the police.”

He yelped, backing up. He felt the prickly branches of a bush dig into his back. No no no, this place wasn’t good either, get out—

And as he was backing up, he tripped over something else, falling over what felt like a wooden chair and landing hard on a carpeted floor. Suddenly, there were a lot of voices. And he could FEEL a lot of people nearby. They FELT different.

“What the hell?!” “Jesus, that scared me.” “Um, Ms. Mae? I think—” “Unauthorized teleportation—” “—supposed to have a smoke effect?” “What’s up with his eyes?” “—don’t recognize him.” “Sir, are you alright?”

Too many people. He tried to stand up, and somehow rammed his head into something. He yelled, withdrawing.

“There’s a bookshelf there, sir,” said one of the voices. “Are you alright? Can you…wait, can you see us?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Not here, somewhere else, not here, somewhere—

And the world shifted again.

And again.

And again.

He wasn’t sure how much time was passing, but it had to be a significant amount. He’d stay in each place for as long as thirty minutes, or as few as thirty seconds. Never anywhere he recognized by touch. Sometimes he’d get his bearings enough to try and find the room’s exit, or walk down the sidewalk, or figure out exactly where the hell he was. But the world always shifted again, even if he didn’t want it to.

Sometimes there were people. He tried not to stay there too long. They’d think he was crazy. Sometimes it was a room, sometimes it was outside. Once there was water lapping around his ankles.

Where was he?

Where were the others? He had to find them. He had to find out if they’d gotten away from Anti, or if he needed to rescue them. Not that he was sure he could, with the world constantly changing. Sure, he’d managed to stab Anti once or twice, but that might’ve been beginner’s luck. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t try, though.

He was outside again, on a sidewalk. The air had cooled down significantly, and he could feel less people around. The sound of the cars passing by were less frequent. Time had passed.

No, he was in a noisy building, people shouting, dishes clattering.

No, he was in a wide-open space, instruments playing discordantly.

No, somewhere boiling hot—

No, somewhere with the ground kicking up sand—

No, somewhere quiet—

Somewhere loud—

Somewhere soft—

Sweet-smelling—

Grassy—

Cold—

His heart was about to pound out of his chest. His mind was swimming, a lightheaded feeling. There were swirls of colors swimming before his eyes. Patterns of phosphenes.

Ticking—

Crashing—

Dizzy—

Heavy—

Too much, too much, too much—

Something broke.

He saw a hospital room, a single bed surrounded by medical equipment. There was a man in a snap-back cap, sitting on the floor like he’d been knocked down, and another man in a ragged white coat, staring down at him. His expression was a combination of shock and anger. “I do not you would forget so easily,” the man in the white coat said. “But maybe I am mistaken. If what I have seen you doing is what I think it is, then maybe your mind is missing entirely.”
“Wha—no, I—oh my god, you’re alive.” The man in the cap stood up, looking a bit dazed as he looked the other up and down. “We all thought the worst—I mean, we never gave up hope—well, ░▒░▒░▒ got close, I think, but maybe that’s just the pessimist in him. And there was that fucked up postcard back in March…but you’re back now. You’re back.” He smiled, a small expression filled with relief.

He was in the middle of a dark field, city lights in the distance. They were close enough to make out buildings but too far to walk to. A man in a black cape and purple and white mask was walking. His hand was held up high above him, blue crystallized lights dancing around his fingers, illuminating the area. He spun around, looking for something. He said something under his breath, and the blue light flared, shooting out.
Something laughed. “You talk too much,” said a voice, seeming to come from everywhere. The man spun around, blue light twirling away. Shuffling movement in the darkness, and then there was something, something gray and smiling and with blackened sharp nails, tackling the man to the ground. Something red splashed.

he was standing behind someone, a young man in a button-up shirt, who was holding a ceramic mug in two hands. the man was in the doorway of a living room, watching two other men talk. They appeared to be arguing.
“i don’t own a green t-shirt, ░▒░▒░!” this man had his hair pulled back, waves falling down his back. “you know i don’t like them! you can go look in my closet and hamper if you want,i don’t have anything like that.”
“well, who was it, then?” this one had a snap-back cap and a dirty jacket. “what, are you saying that someone was pretending to be you—”
the man in the doorway suddenly paled. he dropped the mug he was holding, and it shattered upon the floor with a loud crash. the other two turned to look at him. “░▒░▒░▒░? are you alright?”

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

“Stop!”

He gasped, and suddenly everything was still. Very still, in fact. Almost unusually still. He couldn’t hear anything nearby. He couldn’t smell anything nearby. He couldn’t feel anything other than the ground beneath his feet. But he could feel something…someone? Were they the source of the voice that shouted “stop”?

“Gods, was not expecting that. What’re you doing? How’d you get here?” The voice sounded familiar…but also different.

“I—I—” He couldn’t answer either of those questions. “I do not know. I-I am sorry if I upset you.”

A short burst of laughter. “You didn’t upset me—well I mean, I am kind of busy right now, but I can take a break to figure out what the actual fuck you were doing.”

“Doing? What—where am I?” He realized he was shaking a bit. Nerves, maybe. Or exhaustion. From whatever that had been.

“Hmm. You can’t see, can you? Otherwise you’d be having a stronger reaction than that.” Footsteps approached him. “Here, let me just—”

He felt hands on his head, pressing fingers into his temples. And then he felt something else, some kind of tingly, static sensation. He yelped. And then suddenly, he saw himself. Not from the perspective you would expect, but like he was looking through someone else’s eyes at himself. He could see the scars under his eyes for the first time. Then the perspective changed, like someone was looking to the side. And he saw…lights. Tiny green orbs of light, extending off in all directions, for forever, against a black sky. They were reflected across the horizon, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the floor he was standing on was reflective, or if the floor was transparent, showing a void all around. He gasped, and the hands were withdrawn. “Where am I?” He repeated, in a hushed voice.

“…how do I explain this?” the voice muttered. “Alright. Do you play video games? You likely have a few friends who do.”

“Um…yes, I have friends. I play a few games, I suppose.”

“You know how a level of a game has a map? The map makes up the environment, and it’s made of all the various assets the game has.”

“Yes.”

“You know how, in some games, if you do just the right thing, you can glitch outside of a map and into the empty space beyond? Where you can see the whole map from a new perspective.”

“I…yes.”

“Well. Welcome to the empty space around the map, Henrik.”

Schneep gasped. “How do you know my name?!”

“I mean, I guessed you were one of them.” The voice sounded casual. “The accent gave it away.”

Schneep shook his head, backing away from the voice. “Is—is this real? Am I having a hallucination?”

“Why, do you have those?”

“Someti—that is none of your business!” Schneep snapped. “How do I get back to where I was?”

“Good question, normally you wouldn’t be able to.”

“What?!”

“But the fact that you were glitching outside and looking at other ones is a good sign that you’ll be able to. Though, judging by your reaction and recent memories, this is a new thing for you.”

“You looked inside my—?!” This was too much. Schneep fell to the ground, collapsing to his knees. He covered his mouth and tried not to hyperventilate.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have done that, should I?” The voice asked. “I just thought it would be helpful if I understood where you were coming from.”

“How is this happening?” Schneep whispered weakly. “Jameson, he told me I had magic, b-but I did not think—! It would be like—! Wh-why do I even have this? What happened to make it?”

“Another good question.” The voice lowered, like he was also sitting on the floor. “Well, it sounds like this isn’t something you had your whole life. Were you exposed to any kind of magic for an extended period of time? Say, a few months.”

Schneep immediately started nodding. “I-I got stuck. In this place called…the Ni-Nightmare.” He shuddered. “It was for months.”

“Well, shit. You have to get your soul ripped out to go there.” The voice fell silent for a while. “So, I’m no expert, but I can give you my best guess. Your soul probably got used to being outside your body, and while it was in the Nightmare, it began to adapt to the new environment. Once it was returned to your body, it settled back in, but the properties it picked up started to seep into your body as well. It would probably lay dormant for a while until you needed it to start acting weird, probably triggered by stress or something. And now, I’m guessing everything’s hit the fan for you.”

Schneep nodded. “It was like…everything around me was changing. I could not control it.”

“Of course you can control it.” He could practically hear the voice rolling his eyes. And moderation, of course, so you don’t end up glitching too far. I mean, eventually you would’ve drifted off, bouncing between other worlds. You’re lucky I stopped by.”

Schneep paused. “Who are you?”

Laughter. Chillingly familiar, yet somehow…more relaxed. “If I told you my name, you’d probably recognize it. But I probably shouldn’t, in case the me in your world isn’t as nice. Never mind that, though.” A shuffling sound, like the voice was standing up. Then the voice grabbed Schneep’s arm and pulled him up. “I think it’s best if you don’t stay here. Just in case there are more effects.”

Schneep shook his head. Everything was moving fast. “H…how would I get out of here?”

“Well, you got in, didn’t you? You can get out, if your powers brought you here. You just need to control them.”

“How?” Schneep asked in a small voice.

“You start by NOT controlling them.” Schneep’s expression must’ve shown, because the voice chuckled. “Abilities like this are part of you, if they’re anything like mind. As much as your arm is part of you. Do you make an effort to ‘control’ your arm? No, you just think about what it’s supposed to do, and it does it. Glitching to other places is just an easier way of walking. Think about where you want to go, and go there.”

“What? It cannot be that easy.”

“It is. You might need to practice, though. But for now, just relax. If you freak out, it’s likely that your powers are gonna freak out too.”

“I think I figured that out,” Schneep grumbled.

“Yeah, that’s probably how you ended up here, huh?” The voice sounded like he was smiling. “Just take a deep breath, and think about using your powers to get back where you came from.”

Schneep hesitated. “What if it goes wrong? Are…are you going to give more advice?”

“If you don’t go back to your world, yeah. But once you’re there, I can’t follow you. I can access the In-Between, and my own world, but nothing else without concentrated help. It’s one of the few rules I follow.” The voice shifted, now sounding a bit irritated. “Now can you hurry? I said I was busy, and unless I want some black magic kitty causing havoc, I gotta get back to that.”

“Okay, okay.” Schneep considered asking about that, then decided it was a better idea not to. He took a deep breath. Just think about it, huh? Alright. He wanted to go home. He imagined a doorway opening in front of him, and on the other side was where he wanted to go. He took a step forward—

And ran his shins into a coffee table.

He cried out, jumping backwards. Okay. Alright. This was better. He wasn’t in that weird…place anymore. He reached forward, bending down to feel the surface of the coffee table. It was wood, felt fairly big, and there was an indent right in the middle.

Schneep froze. That wasn’t just an indent. He recognized the feel of the knick in the wood. He ran his fingers over it a few more times, awakening a long ago memory. One time, Marvin had visited his apartment, but neglected to tell him he would be practicing throwing knives. He dropped one right on the living room coffee table. Schneep had ranted his ear off that night about how the blade had left a knick in his table.

How many times had he ran his hand over that dent in the wood? Especially after he’d thought his friend had died…he wasn’t about to forget the feeling of it, no matter how long it had been.

But he had to make sure. Schneep stood up, feeling around the edges of the room. Yes, there was the glass wall to the balcony. There were the houseplants in the corners, now dried up and dead from neglect. There was his second coat hanging off the hook near the door. He’d ended up home.

Schneep sat down hard on the sofa. So. Maybe that voice’s advice wasn’t too bad.

It had been…a long, long day. An absolutely insane day, in fact. He needed to process all this. He lay down across the cushions, staring into nothing. His vision was back to blackness. Which he didn’t mind, in comparison to the static. If that was part of his new abilities, he’d take them all.

Okay. Start with processing the simpler-to-understand stuff. Anti was back. Doing alright so far. Anti was actually Marvin and Jackie—nope, that one needed more attention.

Some part of Schneep knew they’d always been dead. He’d seen their bodies. He’d examined their bodies. You don’t come back from that. And even if they somehow magically recovered for a bit, he knew they weren’t the same. He’d figured out by now that he could feel people, which must’ve also been part of his powers. But he could never feel them. They weren’t people anymore. They were ghosts. Remnants.

Schneep wiped away at the tears suddenly trickling down his face.

And now, all that was left of them was Anti. Anti, the worst parts of each of them, now hell-bent on tormenting them. Maybe if they got rid of Anti, Marvin and Jackie could finally have some peace. In whatever came next.

He reached vaguely to the side. He needed a weapon, something suitable for defeating Anti. And surprisingly, his fingers wrapped around something. He pulled it back, feeling the item over with both hands. A pair of…scissors? Odd, but he supposed they were just a pair of knives attached together. He tried again, reaching to the side, this time thinking about a knife. And this time, he grabbed a kitchen knife. Huh. Apparently, he could summon things now, too. Though…was he actually just reaching through some kind of wormhole to grab something from somewhere else…?

Schneep shook his head. He’d figure it out later. For now…he was tired. And again, he needed to process this. He set the scissors and the knife down on the nearby table.

They needed a plan. They needed to be together. And Schneep needed more time to adjust to these new abilities.

So that would be what he’d do next. He’d figure out how to use these powers to their best, find their strengths, weaknesses, and limitations. Then, when they came for Anti, he wouldn’t know what hit him.

With a sigh, Schneep closed his eyes. Yes, he’d be prepared for that day. It was coming soon.



Part Fourteen of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Laurens goes searching for her notebook of information, but it seems to have disappeared. Meanwhile, Dr. Newson attends her court hearing against Marvin, and JJ has the strangest feeling that someone is following him.]
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Laurens pulled to the side of the road, checking the address she’d written down. This part of town was unfamiliar to her, so it paid to double-check. But she was indeed at the right house. Unless Chase had given her the wrong address, but considering this was supposed to be one of his friends’ places, she doubted that.

Stepping out of the car, she checked the cast on her arm and then hurried up the path to the doorway and rang the bell. She then waited for a few long, awkward moments before deciding to ring again. Then again. And just when she was starting to wonder if anyone was actually home, the door opened a bit, revealing a man holding a cat.. “Hi, get inside, quick,” he said.

“I—sorry, what?” Laurens blinked in surprise.

“If this is going to last longer than a minute, I need you to get inside before—oh, no you don’t!” The cat in the man’s arms was wriggling a lot, and he fought to keep hold of it. “She wants out, so get inside so I can close the door!”

“Oh! Right.” Laurens stepped inside the house, and the man closed the door right behind her.

Not a moment too soon, the cat jumped out of his arms and landed on the floor, staring at the closed door. It mewed, one of those whiny meows cats do when they want something. “Luna, for fuck’s sake, you’re not an outdoor cat,” the man said, exasperated. “There are no outdoor domestic cats, stop it.” The cat stared at him, then suddenly darted away, a black shadow streaking across the floor. The man sighed, then looked over at Laurens. “Sorry. Anyway, what did you want?”

“You’re Marvin, right?” Laurens asked. “I’m Rya Laurens, I’m your friend Schneep’s therapist.”

“Oh, you call him Schneep! He must like you.” Marvin nodded. “So how’d you find my address?”

“Chase gave it to me,” Laurens explained. “See, I gave my notebook to one of my coworkers, and he gave it to Chase, and when I called him about it he said he gave it to you, so now I need it back and I’ve come to get it.”

Marvin’s shoulders slumped a bit, as if releasing some anxiety. “Oh, okay. No problem. I think I left it—”

There was a sudden clatter down the hall. Laurens turned to see the small black cat from before was now wrestling with a larger, lighter-colored cat.

“For the love of—Luna Void, no! Leave him alone! He was just sleeping.” Marvin picked up a cat toy on a string from the coffee table, and handed it to Laurens. “Here, keep her busy while I look for your notebook. Fifteen minutes, she’ll wear herself out.” And without waiting for an answer, he disappeared down the hall and into one of the rooms.

“Wh—well, okay then.” Laurens started waving the cat toy around, immediately attracting the attention of Luna. The cat crept closer, crouched down, wiggled her tail, and then pounced! Laurens yanked the toy away at the last minute, a smile creeping onto her face. She’d never had a pet before, but she’d always considered it. Maybe once her routine at the hospital settled down more and this whole situation was fixed, she’d get a cat.

She spent what felt like a long time playing with Luna, waving around the cat toy and watching her jump after it. The other cat appeared at some point, too, but preferred to sit and just stare at the toy. In fact, by the time Marvin reappeared, she’d been thoroughly distracted by the cats.

“Hey, so uh…while you were hanging out in here, did you see your notebook?” Marvin asked, his voice strangely strained.

“Hmm? Well, no.” Laurens gave the living room another glance. There weren’t a lot of surfaces for a notebook to rest on. “Why?”

“I thought it was in my room, but uh…no.” Marvin walked around the perimeter of the room, moving some pillows and looking behind furniture. “I checked the hall drawers and the closet and the bathroom and even the altar room, and it’s not there.” He frowned, and disappeared down the other hall. “I’m gonna check the kitchen and dining room…”

Laurens stared after him, then put down the cat toy—allowing Luna to attack it at will—and followed. “Hey, I’ll help!” she called.

The two of them spent fifteen minutes searching the rooms of the house, with no luck finding her notebook. “What the fuck?!” Marvin finally cried, looking more than a little panicked. “I was sure it was here! I was—” He leaned over and hit the hallway wall several times.

“Whoa, hey, it’s fine, I don’t need it right now,” Laurens said reassuringly. “I can come back another day.”

“But it was right here!” Marvin insisted. “Why the fuck do things just vanish every time I put them down?!”

“You seem a bit frustrated,” Laurens reasoned. “Maybe you should forget about this for a while and do something else for a bit? It’ll be better when you come back.”

“What are you, a—I was about to say ‘what are you, a mental health advice website’ but you’re actually a therapist, huh.” Marvin shook his head, running his hands through his ponytail. “It’s just so—ugh! Frustrating, you’re right! And I’m not gonna be able to stop thinking about it, today when I have a thing!”

“What thing?” Laurens asked, curious.

“Oh, uh…I have a court hearing soon,” Marvin explained, his expression rapidly changing from frustration to embarrassment. “Not for me! I’m just suing someone.” He winced. “That sounds bad, but I promise, I’m not a bitch.”

“Wait…you wouldn’t happen to be the one suing Dr. Newson, would you?” Laurens suddenly asked.

Marvin blinked. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Laurens laughed. “She said she wouldn’t be in for work today because she has to attend a court hearing. I thought your last name sounded familiar.” She noticed that Marvin’s awkwardness hadn’t disappeared. “Oh don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you at all. If she wasn’t my boss, I probably would’ve done something similar once I got back. Malpractice, right?”

Marvin nodded slowly. “Yeah…well…alright, then.” He turned away. “But I could’ve sworn I had your notebook somewhere in plain sight. It couldn’t have just disappeared.”

“Where was the last place you saw it?” Laurens asked, a bit taken aback by the sudden change of subject.

“In the living room, on the coffee table. About…I dunno, a while ago. But it’s not there now. Did it just vanish?! What the fuck?” Marvin scowled. “And also! Semi-related, but I swear the hall chester drawers weren’t that close to the wall. I know it’s out there, but it’s been driving me crazy all week or so, and I just had to say something to someone.”

“Chester…you mean the chest of drawers?” Laurens looked down the hall. They seemed to be pushed against a doorway. “Did you not put it back when you went through that door?”

“Nah, I don’t use that door,” Marvin said dismissively. “Why would I need it? It’s a shitty door. Doesn’t even lock.”

“…huh. Maybe you should fix that,” Laurens suggested tentatively.

“Maybe. I dunno, I keep forgetting.” Marvin sighed. “Anyway, sorry for that tangent. Also sorry I couldn’t find your notebook.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Just let me know when you do find it. Here, I’ll give you my number.”

In the end, Laurens left without finding her notebook. That fact was starting to worry her, in all honesty. It contained a lot of information that she would have liked to keep close for her sessions. There would be a lot of work, putting it together again. And there was another, more uneasy feeling about the missing notebook that she couldn’t identify. Worry, perhaps? About more than just not getting it back?

What if someone took it? The question crossed her mind, and she wanted to dismiss it. Yet she found that she couldn’t. Not entirely.

Well, for now, she had to go to work. Laurens started her car again—it had taken some practice to get used to driving with her arm in a cast, but she was pretty sure she could handle it now—and headed out.
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Newson stared down at the paper on the table before her, unable to do anything but read it over and over again. It had appeared in her mail that morning, but she hadn’t opened the envelope until now. That had probably been a bad idea.

"Due to the nature of this recent situation, we have decided to suspend your duties as head of the Silver Hills Institute and Hospital. This suspension will remain in place until the time in which this is resolved."

It made sense that the Board of Directors would want to suspend her position. They were concerned with image, after all, and having their head doctor involved in a legal incident involving malpractice was certainly bad press. Still, understanding their reasoning didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Dr. Newson, are you okay?”

She looked up. “Oh? Yeah, I’m fine, Yates. Thanks.” Her lawyer didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t expect him to. So she quickly changed the subject. “They’re taking a while, huh?” She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Is that good or bad?”

“Well, this isn’t a trial,” Yates reminded her. “A long wait period isn’t necessarily an indicator of anything. It’s most likely because of the complicated details of this case.”

Well, Newson had to admit that was true. First, they thought Schneeplestein was a killer. Then Laurens, his doctor, disappeared, and when she returned she brought with her evidence that Schneeplestein wasn’t actually the one who killed all those people. It was someone else, going by the pseudonym “Anti.” This Anti hadn’t just kidnapped Schneeplestein, but also this PI friend of his, who was still missing. Essentially, two cases were connected by this one man, and nothing had been as it seemed.

Bored, Newson looked around the room again. It was a small courthouse, only meant for hearings like this. There were two tables for the opposing parties—Newson called them the “sue-er” and the “sue-ee”, even though she knew those weren’t the technical terms—and their lawyers, and a longer, curved table for the judges who’d hear the case out. Lights overhead provided enough brightness to see things, helped by sunlight coming from the high-up windows. It was very typical of what you’d expect a courtroom to look like.

The judge table was currently empty, as they’d left in order to discuss whether to let this case proceed. One of the remaining tables was for her and her lawyer, and the other was for the other guys: Marvin Maher and his lawyer. Marvin was currently on the phone, either not noticing or not caring how loud it was in the small room even when he kept his voice down. Newson could hear every word of his conversation with Chase; they were talking about something “improving,” possibly a person, and saying how they hope it will continue that way.

A side door opened, and the judges returned. Newson sat up straight in her seat, waiting for what they would say.

“After a great deal of discussion, we have decided to call a second hearing, featuring testimonies from more people involved in the situation to hopefully clear up some of the circumstances surrounding it. This hearing will be held eight days from now, on the thirty-first of October…”

Newson let out a deep sigh at the statement. On Halloween, really? That was a holiday! Though, it wasn’t like she had any plans this year. For as long as she could remember, she spent holidays like Halloween with her brother, Jeremy. And…that wasn’t an option anymore.

A familiar ache reappeared in her chest. Sometimes she wondered if a hole had opened up in her heart the day she got the news about Jeremy. A hole that had been empty for so long, only to be filled with this deep, burning anger. Like a little ball of poison had wormed its way inside, and attached itself to the wall of the hole, and now it had been there for so long that she didn’t think she could remove it without doing damage to herself.

But the consequences of that poison were catching up to her, the symptoms finally showing. First in this court hearing, then in that letter that had been delivered to her that morning announcing the suspension of her position.

The judges finished talking, and without any more reason to be here, Newson stood up. She glanced at Marvin, noting how he looked rather smug, then turned and left, not bothering to notice if anyone followed her.
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“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Oliver asked.

Laurens nodded, though secretly she was still a bit uncertain. “It’ll be fine. We need a change of scenery.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Oliver agreed. “Okay, if we’re doing this, let’s go.”

Nodding, Laurens leaned away from the conversation and closer to Schneep. “How are you feeling?”

Schneep took a moment to answer, busy looking around at the hallway. It had been a while since he’d left his room. To the point where Laurens was seriously concerned about the effect it was having on him. Now that she was his therapist once again, she wasn’t going to let that continue. “I am…fine,” Schneep finally said.

“Your hands are shaking a bit,” Laurens noticed. “It’s fine if that’s nerves, you know?”

“A-ah, no, they have just been shaking…lately,” Schneep hurried to say.

“Really?” Laurens frowned. “That might be a side effect of your medication. Is there anything else like this bothering you?”

Schneep paused. “Okay, so I lied. I may be feeling some…emotions.”

Laurens smiled a bit. “Alright, but remember to please tell me if there’s anything like that happening.”

She reached forward and pushed open the double doors in front of them. The cafeteria was empty—just as she’d planned it to be. The floor was dotted with clusters of tables, with a door leading to the kitchen, where you would go to get food. She could hear the faint sounds of the staff getting ready for dinner.

“Let’s sit…hmmm, here.” Laurens took a seat at the nearest table. Schneep sat next to her, eyes darting around the room, while Oliver sat down at a different table some ways away. “How are you feeling now? Any more nervous?”

“It is…a very big open space,” Schneep said slowly. “It feels a bit empty.”

“Yes, that’s to be expected, it’s been a while since you’ve been in a room this big,” Laurens said slowly. She took out her stack of notes and spread them on the table before her. “So, how have you been?”

“You know, we see each other every day,” Schneep pointed out. “You would think you would know that.”

“Well, it’s always good to hear it from you directly,” Laurens said, glancing down at her notes. “How about…you told me a couple days ago about the eyes. How have things been with those?”

Schneep looked down. “Well, they are still appearing. But I think it is being less frequent.”

“That’s good! And any of the others?”

“The same.”

“I see.” Laurens made a note of that. The slow adjustment of medication appeared to be working. Of course, there was still a ways to go, but it was a start. “And…do you feel like talking about him today?”

Schneep flinched. “…very well. Sure.”

“You don’t have to, of course,” Laurens reassured her.

“I am just worried,” Schneep said. “What if…if he gets angry about me telling people?”

“I don’t think he can get in here,” Laurens said.

“But he has!” Schneep hissed. “Many, many times. I h-have seen him! Heard him. The walls of buildings do not mean anything. Still lying, still whispering to me to do things.” He wrapped his arms around himself.

“Schneep, we’re here to help, you know.” Laurens kept her voice low and calm. “We’ll always look out for him for you. And if he slips past, you have to let me or someone know, okay? Then we can do something about it.” She waited for Schneep to nod in response. “Alright. Are we ready to move on?” Another nod. “Good. Can I ask you about something you just said? The thing about him lying to you?”

“Oh…well, that is a story.” Schneep took a deep breath. “When I was stuck with him, he would…tell me things that were not true. Pretend to be a friend of mine, a-and often he tried to make me think everything that had happened…had not actually happened. That I had imagined it all. That Jackie was not actually there.” His voice started to shake. “I-it was confusing, and I did…did not know what to do about it. It was…h-hard to tell what was really there, while he was doing this.”

“I see.” Laurens nodded. “That sounds confusing. This lying was making it hard to tell what was real? Do you think he was taking advantage of your condition?”

“That must have been it,” Schneep muttered. “I do not know why h-he did that.”

“Usually that’s meant to make someone more dependent on the person lying to them,” Laurens explained. “To make them think that they don’t know what to do, but that person does.”

Schneep took a moment to process this. “…that was probably it, then.” He paused. “Is…do you think that this made the condition worse?”

“I think it would explain a lot,” Laurens said. “You seem to have a lot of doubt about what’s actually happening. I wonder…do you know the mirror trick?”

“That if something is not in the mirror, then it isn’t real? I know that, yes.”

“If I gave you a small mirror, like a compact or something, do you think that would help?” Laurens offered.

Schneep thought this over. “Yes, perhaps. Is that allowed?”

“A small one should be fine,” Laurens said. She knew that Newson would probably deny it, on the basis of it being easy to turn a mirror into a collection of sharp objects. But she thought that risk was worth taking. And she wasn’t going to just give in if anyone made a fuss about it, either. Besides, in her experience, mirrors in compacts were much harder to break, just because of how small they are.

“Then yes, I think I would like that.”

“Alright, I’ll get one for you tomorrow.”
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Jameson was uneasy.

The feeling had been plaguing him all day. It had stayed with him all throughout work, but now, heading home that afternoon, it had increased. He couldn’t relax on the bus, tapping a meaningless rhythm on the back of the empty seat in front of him. What was this? Was he having an anxiety attack? He pressed his fingers to his wrist, checking his pulse. No, that was normal. He could breathe fine, he wasn’t shaking. There were no physical symptoms of an attack. So what was the feeling?

He glanced around the bus to see if there was anything that could be causing this. It looked like just about any other bus. A bit on the crowded side, but he tried to look over as many passengers as possible. Nobody really stood out. And looking out the window, there wasn’t anything outside that was unusual. The bus was on its normal course.

It took about twenty minutes to take the bus from his work to his apartment and back. Soon, JJ saw his stop approaching, and pulled the cord to indicate a stop request. The bus slowed, and he hopped up, making his way to the front. He nodded a thank you to the driver as the doors opened.

He was starting down the sidewalk when he couldn’t help but notice someone else got off the bus at the same stop. Not that strange, really. While this wasn’t a busy stop, people still got off here. But for some reason, the uneasy feeling increased. He glanced behind him, trying to look natural. The man who’d gotten off the bus was wearing a blue shirt and black scarf, his hair was light blonde and his eyes were…well, JJ couldn’t tell. After all, he’d only caught a glimpse of the man.

It was just some stranger, JJ decided. Nothing odd here. So he kept walking.

But soon, the stranger was walking in the same direction he was.

That wasn’t weird, right? That happened all the time, didn’t it? Still, JJ noticed he was walking a bit faster than usual, and he didn’t do anything to slow down.

He had to stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change. At this point, the stranger should’ve either turned the corner, or drawn even with him to also wait for the signal. But that didn’t happen. JJ once again glanced around, masking it as though he was looking at the traffic. The stranger had stopped some ways away, and was looking at a phone. Weird…most people didn’t hold their phone straight up like that, did they? Not unless they were taking a picture.

Jameson’s heart sped up, pounding in his chest. The signal changed, and he hurried across. Naturally, the stranger hurried, as well. And kept pace, some ways back, as Jameson walked faster and faster, suddenly very eager to get back to his apartment building.

It was only a few minutes’ walk, really, but it felt like forever before Jameson finally ducked into the front entrance of his building, quickly shutting the doors behind him. His breathing tore at his throat, and he tried to calm it.

“Sir, are you okay?” Cynthia, one of the apartment staff, was standing by the elevator doors, the only other person in the area.

Jameson looked over his shoulder, back through the glass doors. The stranger was walking calmly, looking down at his phone, not in sight of the front entrance yet. Noting that, Jameson hurried over to Cynthia. 'I think someone might have been following me,' he said.

Cynthia’s forehead wrinkled as she took a while to translate the signs. “Oh, really? That’s not…are you sure? We’re dedicated to the safety of our residents—”

Jameson nodded furiously, not caring about the usual safety spiel. 'I’m sure.' He looked back towards the front entrance. The stranger had stopped walking just when he was about to pass the windows by, and was now more closely examining the phone. Once again, holding it straight up. 'That man,' he said, trying to gesture discreetly.

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t recognize him, he must not be a resident.” Cynthia leaned closer. “Would you like me to call the police?”

'No, not unless it happens again,' Jameson said. Although part of him really wanted to call the police, he also didn’t want to get some innocent man put on a watchlist or something for no reason. 'Can you just please look out?'

“Of course, sir, and I’ll inform the rest of the staff to look out for any trespassers. Let us know if anything happens.”

Jameson nods, then presses the button for the elevator. As luck would have it, one opened right away, and he quickly got inside, trying not to look too anxious as he pressed the button for his floor. He tried to catch one last glimpse of the stranger before the doors closed, just barely in time to see the man lowering his phone.

He hurried back to his apartment. The moment he was inside with the door closed, Jameson sank to the floor, covering his mouth and feeling tears gathering in his eyes. Who was that man? What did he want? He was sure that he’d been taking pictures, but why? Actually, did it matter? He didn’t want anyone to have pictures of him. Even Chase and Marvin, the closest friends he’d had in years…It had taken weeks for him to let them take pictures of him, and months for him to feel comfortable with them posting those pictures online. So this? This was a nightmare.

Questions kept circling through his mind. Who was that man? What did he want? Why? Who was it? What? Why? Who? He could only think of one person who’d want to follow him for any reason…Jameson shuddered. No, it couldn’t be Anti. Anti didn’t know about him, and besides, that man clearly hadn’t been him. It may have been a while since he’d seen his brother, but he still knew what he looked like.

Jameson took a deep breath, and climbed to his feet. He made sure the apartment door was locked, then went around the rooms and closed all the blinds. Right now, he had to calm down. He didn’t want to start a downward spiral of panic and what-ifs. He needed something to ground himself. How about…playing a game or something? That usually worked for him, if he managed to make his mind busy. Yes.

He ended up turning on his computer and booting up Minecraft. That would work. A perfect distraction. JJ sighed, and slowly started to relax. He could handle this. After he was feeling better, he’d make a plan for what to do in the worst case scenario. He could handle it. It would be fine.
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Elsewhere in the city, a bathroom sink was running. A man ran a washcloth under the water, soaking it, and started wiping away at his face. Peach-colored makeup washed away in streams, slowly revealing red scars covering half the man’s face.

Anti scowled at his reflection and the ugly scar lines it had. God, he hated them. He’d thought about getting surgery to get rid of them, but ultimately decided he didn’t trust any procedures that would do that. So he was stuck with his face for now. Most of the time. After all, it was easy to cover up most physical appearances with makeup.

Of course, it hadn’t been easy at first. But he’d practiced. And now he could change his face enough to slip by most people. It was surprising how much makeup could do, even appearing to alter your bone structure if you were skilled enough.

Though, that wasn’t all that contributed to a good disguise. For example, there was hair dye. Anti picked up a different washcloth and leaned down, trying to get as much of the blonde coloring off as he could manage. He’d probably have to take a full shower to get rid of it all, but it came off pretty easily for now. That was probably because it was some shitty temporary dye, but he had to make do with what he had in this apartment. Most of his good stuff was probably in police custody now, what with them having found his safe house and everything.

Satisfied with how much he’d managed to clean off, Anti dried his face and hair with a towel and returned to the apartment’s living room. He sat down in the nearest chair, pulled that stupid scarf off his neck, and took out his phone to look at the pictures he’d taken.

There was no doubt in his mind now; this had to be Jameson. It had taken a week to track down his information, which was about twice as long as it usually took him. But that was because Jameson didn’t seem to have any online presence at all. Surprising, in this day and age. So Anti had to resort to some more…old-fashioned methods, until today, when he’d finally followed Jameson to where he was living. He noted the name and address of the building.

Anti grinned to himself, but then it slowly faded as he felt someone watching him. He sat up straight and turned to glare at the offending watcher. Jackie. He hadn’t moved from his usual spot, of course he wasn’t able to, but he was staring rather curiously at Anti. That changed once Anti returned the attention, and he flinched and looked away.

“Good, I don’t even have to say anything. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to fucking stare?” Anti growled. Jackie hunched his shoulders, trying to appear even smaller.

It occurred to Anti, not for the first time, that he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if he just killed Jackie. It wasn’t like it would be difficult. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t do it. He was able to justify now as the police being reluctant to act if they knew he had a hostage, but there had been a period of a few months, right after he lost Schneep, where keeping Jackie around was no advantage at all, and really more trouble than it was worth. But he still didn’t do it.

Maybe he got attached. In some way or another. Didn’t that happen in situations like this? Well, Anti couldn’t really say he cared about Jackie, but it was sort of nice to just have something living around, fun to see his reactions and little moments of panic. Or whatever.

He turned his attention back to the photos on his phone, zooming in as far as he could on Jameson’s face. God, he looked so much older. It had been too long, really. Maybe this was fate. Fate that he had come to this city, started his little project with Schneeplestein, and eventually found his brother again.

The only question was how Anti was going to get him back.



Part Thirteen of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Chase gets some positive news for once, Laurens and Schneep have their first proper session since her return, and Anti finds out more about this group of friends.]
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Chase woke up at two in the afternoon. Well technically, he was awake at twelve, but lied in bed for another couple hours before actually getting up. “Oh my gooood.” He squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. Why couldn’t he get up at a normal time lately? At least today he had an excuse because he had the kids over yesterday. Saturdays to Mondays, that was the agreement. And Stacy wasn’t ready to renegotiate it.

They’d talked about that last night, when she came to pick them up. “Chase, I know this isn’t…ideal,” she said in a low voice. “But look around. Your fridge is empty, things are scattered around the house in a mess, and, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I…haven’t heard anything about a job or anything.” She sighed. “It’s not even really up to me, you know. Courts.”

“No, no, I get it,” Chase had replied. “It makes sense.”

“We can work things out once things are more settled.”

Well, now he was lying in bed and feeling bad, which was a step down from lying in a bed feeling tired, so he decided to get up and shower. It had been a while since that happened, and he couldn’t go to his one outing he’d planned today like that. He rolled out of bed, took a quick shower, ate a Pop-Tart for breakfast, and he felt a little better.

It really did make sense to have the kids spend most of their time with their mom. Chase knew he hadn’t exactly been…kept-together recently. And by “recently,” he meant for about the past two years. Sophie and Nick needed a parent who could actually put energy into raising them. He could do that, eventually. If he worked on it. “Positive thoughts, Chasey boy,” he said under his breath. “Be optimistic.”

Okay, that was enough of that for now. He had something to do. But before he did that, he checked his phone for any texts. Marvin sent a video of Luna and Ragamuffin being cute, that was nice. Nothing else. Alright, no more stalling. He grabbed his jacket and cap and headed out to the car.
.............................................................................................

He stepped into the hospital just as visiting hours were starting. By now he had hospital check-in routines down to muscle memory. He was signing his name on the check-in clipboard when he was interrupted by a loud voice: “Ah, Mr. Brody! Good to see you again.”

Chase jumped a bit, then turned around. “Oh. Hi, Dr. Emerson.”

The doctor was a tall man with a thick beard. Chase had always thought he looked more like a Viking than one of the city’s best…well, he couldn’t remember what exact field the doctor was a specialist in, all he knew was it had something to do with whatever had gone wrong with Jack. Brains or nerves or something. “So soon, huh?” Dr. Emerson said, chuckling. “No, I understand.”

“Uhhh…” Was Chase missing something? The last time he’d been here was two weeks ago. “O…kay?”

“Well, don’t show too much enthusiasm.” Dr. Emerson raised an eyebrow. “Are you still confused, then?”

“Confused about wh—I mean I am confused, because I don’t know what to be confused about.” That was starting to sound less and less like a word.

“Ah.” Emerson’s smile faltered. “Do you not remember what I told you yesterday?”

“I wasn’t here yesterday,” Chase said, his voice slowly rising as nerves creeped up on him. “What are you talking about?”

Now Emerson looked as baffled as Chase felt. “I…think there’s been some misunderstanding here.”

“Y’know, I’m gonna, uh, go to Jack’s room.” Chase started walking away, down the hall towards the ICU wing. “You can, uh, come with me and tell me what happened yesterday while we go.”

Emerson followed. As the two of them waited at the elevator, he started explaining. “Well, about this time yesterday, you walked in, checked in just like you did, and went up to the room.” The elevator arrived with a ding, and the two of them stepped inside. Chase pressed the button for the third floor and listened as the doctor continued. “Of course, I only assume this part, since you wrote your name on the visitor’s slip. I was already in the room, and that’s when I told you about the change in Jack’s condition—”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Chase shouted.

“My god, man, you can be loud when you want,” Emerson said, taking a step away. “Anyway, yes, his GCS score went up.”

“I…don’t know what that means,” Chase said, staring at him in shock. The elevator dinged again, but he didn’t even step out.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Emerson said. He made an ‘after you’ gesture, and Chase finally stepped out, now following Emerson as he walked down a familiar hallway. “Then you said you would look it up later, and I left you with Jack.”

“None of this happened,” Chase said, clenching his shaking hands into fists. “This did not happen, I-I was busy all day yesterday.”

“Well, could it have been one of your friends?” Emerson asked. “You do all look similar, don’t you? Though I don’t understand why he’d pretend to be you.”

Chase fell silent. He knew that neither Marvin or JJ would do something like that. But there was someone who might. Anti. In fact, hadn’t Anti done the same thing once before? Pretended to be Marvin visiting the hospital? But why? Jack didn’t have anything to do with any of this. He had no idea what Anti was planning, and that led his mind to the worst case scenarios.

They arrived at Room 309, and Chase reached forward to open the door. “Oh wait,” Dr. Emerson interrupted, placing a hand on the door. “I should probably tell you about the changes. I would have yesterday, but you—or, er, your friend saw first.”

“Okay, so what are theys?” Chase asked. “These changes. What’s a GCS? Is that some sort of fancy brain wave or something?”

Emerson chuckled. “No, it’s not actually anything in the body. GCS stands for Glasgow Coma Scale, it’s a way to describe someone’s level of consciousness after brain trauma. I suppose I’ve been so used to talking about it with others in the department that I forgot I had to explain it.”

“Yes, that would be appreciated,” Chase prompted.

“Well, the GCS measures three factors: eye opening, verbal response, and motor response. Each of these are measured on a scale, and when combined there’s a highest possible score of 15. Mr. McLoughlin’s has recently raised from the lowest possible score, three, to a five.”

“And that’s good,” Chase clarified.

“Yes, it is very good.” Emerson smiled. “I’ll be honest with you, Chase, it’s been over a year, and things weren’t looking good for Jack’s recovery. This is a huge development.”

Chase nodded. “R…right.” He grabbed the doorknob and swung it open, stepping inside.

The room looked the same as ever. Jack looked the same as ever. Chase hesitated, then walked up next to the bed. And then the difference was clear. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jack opened his eyes.

Chase had to stop and process what he was looking at. His eyes were open. He was looking at him. “I…oh my god.” He covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh my god, Jack?”

“He can’t respond, Chase.” Emerson walked up next to him. “He hasn’t reacted to anything verbally or through motion. Just the eyes, and it’s not spontaneous. Only to sound.”

“Oh.” Chase nodded, slowly lowering his hand. “Can he hear us?”

“Well, we have no way of knowing,” Emerson explained. “It could only be an automatic response, he could be hearing us but not comprehending what we say, or he could be listening to everything.” He paused. “You understand that a GCS score of five is still very low, yes? Anything below an eight is still considered to be a coma.”

“Right…” Chase took another step closer, reaching down to touch Jack’s hand. Still, it was an improvement, and at this point, he’d take any sign of change for the better. It had been so long since he last saw his friend smile…talked to him…perhaps eventually, he’d be able to do that again. But as the hopeful thought arose, it was brought back down by a sinking feeling. He looked over at Emerson. “Hey doc, this is important. I didn’t come to visit yesterday. My friends didn’t either. There’s…” he hesitated. “There’s someone else. He’s been following us, a-and I don’t know what he wants, but it’s most likely not…good.”

Emerson turned pale. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, the police know about this guy.” Even though he hadn’t told them that he thought Anti was stalking them…well, at least they knew he existed. He wasn’t sure if he should tell them, after all, he didn’t have much proof. “So you have to be careful, okay? I-I’ll tell my friends, we need to find a way for you to make sure it’s us and not him…” He looked back down at Jack. Nobody was more vulnerable than someone in a coma.

“I’ll wait outside, we can discuss this later,” Emerson said. “After you’re done here.”

Chase nodded. Emerson left, footsteps retreating, and Chase didn’t turn around as he heard the door shut. He squeezed Jack’s hand tighter. “Sorry you got caught up in this,” he muttered. “I don’t know what he’d want from you. I mean, Anti popped up in our lives after you went through all this. Or, well, JJ knew him.” He pulls over the chair, sitting down. “Yeah, uh, this Anti guy. He’s bad news. He kidnapped Schneep, and like…all those bad things I told you about, that he was accused of, it was actually Anti, and Schneep got framed. I guess it’s easy to scapegoat a guy who can’t even confirm he really saw you.” He paused. “He’s got Jackie too. The police are looking for him, so I guess there’s a better chance of finding Jackie now that they know where he is. Also. The craziest thing about this is that Anti is JJ’s brother.” He laughed dryly. “God, what a coincidence, huh? Maybe fate does exist. And it’s a dick.”

He goes quiet, watching Jack. After a few minutes of silence, his eyes started to close. “Y’know I really do hope you can hear me, and you’re listening,” Chase said. Jack’s eyes automatically opened wide again. “Because then you could tell us what Anti was doing here yesterday. It would be…I guess it would make me feel a bit better, to at least know.” He took a deep breath. “But you know what? It’s gonna be okay. Eventually. It might take a while, and I’ll be honest, right now is kind of sucky, but it’s gonna get better eventually. Y’know what you used to say, positive mental attitude. The viewers are really liking that, by the way. They still miss you, of course, but I’m keeping on. But on the track of positivity, at least Schneep’s first doctor is back, so he’ll be okay, I think. Marvin’s doing good, too. JJ…well, he was freaking out a bit, about Anti…I don’t want to make assumptions, but at best, they didn’t get along, and now he’s here, so it would freak anyone out. But he’s doing a bit better, I think. Yeah. It’s all getting better. Slowly.” He blinked furiously. “For everyone else. That…that’s great.”

For a moment, he thinks he feels Jack’s fingers move. Not like they were squeezing his hand, but a movement nonetheless. He looks down, surprised, but he doesn’t think anything’s changed. Maybe he imagined it. But in any case…“Hah. Y’know I can practically hear you giving me a lecture on self-care. Yeah, I’m trying, bro. Still in a bit of a gray spot. I really am happy that everyone else is doing good, it just kinda sucks when you’re in that gray spot, you know? But I am great and I’ll get through it. Yeah.” He didn’t really believe that, but Marvin had told him that saying positive things about yourself was the first step to believing them. “I just…miss you, Jack. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

For the rest of the visit, he goes quiet, watching the heart monitor rise and fall. Things were crazy, but it would be fine. It would be.
.............................................................................................

Dr. Laurens had rescheduled her sessions to be later in the day. Because quite frankly, she wanted to sleep in. And judging by the records Newson had left, the past sessions had gone all over the place in terms of what time they took place, so it wasn’t like she was interrupting a schedule. It was shortly before five o’clock when she met up with Oliver and they headed to Room 1010.

When Laurens opened the door, she saw Schneep was standing up and pacing the length of the back wall. Oliver handed her the paper cup with the medication inside, then went over to stand in the corner and try to attract as little attention as was possible for someone over six feet tall. Laurens nodded encouragingly, and walked forward. “Schneep?” She said, putting a confident tone in her voice. “Are you ready?”

Schneep jumped, and whirled around. Wariness faded away to happiness. “So it IS you,” he said. “You are back. Unless this is not real too…”

“No, it’s real,” Laurens said, smiling. “I’m back. Dr. Newson won’t be handling your case anymore.” She’d actually briefly passed Newson when coming in, but hadn’t really stopped to chat. Newson briefly mentioned having an appointment with her lawyer after leaving, but Laurens hadn’t pushed. She already knew about the lawsuit anyway.

“Oh thank god,” Schneep said, relieved. “She was not…helpful.”

“That is the least you could say,” Laurens muttered. “Anyway, before we get started, I need you to…well, there’s this.” She set the paper cup down on the table.

Schneep paled, backing up. “No no no no, I have a clear head, I have energy, I will not—”

“There are no sedatives in this,” Laurens hurried to say. “I promise.” It was messed up that she had to clarify that. “It shouldn’t have that effect, and if it does, please let me know so that I can change it.” Schneep didn’t move any closer. “Dr. Newson had you taking an improper medication with much too high a dosage, so you’ll have to slowly ease off it and onto a medication that should be better.”

Schneep hesitated for a moment longer before stepping forward, picking up the paper cup, and swallowing the pill inside in one gulp. “If this is not…” He trailed off.

“It’ll be fine,” Laurens said reassuringly. “If it isn’t, you have to tell me so I can fix it, okay. Now.” She sat down on the room’s chair. “I think it’s important to give you an update.” She waited for Schneep to sit on the bed before continuing. “So, it appears as though I’ve been misunderstanding your condition. In that you actually have two of them.”

“Oh?” Schneep blinked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes.” Laurens automatically reached for her journal, before remembering that she’d given it to Oliver. He’d told her yesterday that he gave it to Schneep’s friend Chase, and she had yet to ask him for it back. She was now working with some loose sheets of paper, which she spread on the table. “You are aware of your schizoaffective disorder, but now that I know more about what’s happened to you, I believe you also have some post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Schneep paused. “Ah.”

She waited for a stronger reaction, but didn’t receive one. “Yes. So that will change our approach from now on.”

“Alright,” Schneep said slowly. “Is there medication for it?”

“We’re still focusing on getting you off the last one,” Laurens explained. “But perhaps I could give you some anti—” Schneep flinched “—anxiety medication later. But it can’t be treated solely with that. You understand that, right?”

Schneep nodded slowly. “What happened to your arm?”

“A-ah…well…” Laurens hesitated. “Obviously I broke it. Dislocated my wrist, too.”

“How?”

“Well…” Laurens hesitated. She didn’t know what effect it would have on Schneep if he knew everything that happened with her and Anti and Jackie. The last thing she wanted right now was to upset him. And besides, she didn’t really want to talk about it anyway. “I’ll tell you some other time, okay? For now, I want to focus on you.” She shuffled her papers. “Schneep…there’s no way to ease into this that won’t alarm you, so I’m just going to say it. Do you know Anti?”

The effect was immediate. Schneep jumped, scooting backwards on the bed. “Do not say the name!”

“Why not?” Laurens asked. “You told me once that this would give him power, right? That giving him attention would make him stronger?”

Schneep nodded, looking significantly paler.

“Well, here’s where things are difficult, Schneep,” she said patiently. “I believe that he’s a major source of trauma for you.” Because why wouldn’t he be? Laurens remembered all the things Jackie had told her about what happened to the two of them, and that would give anyone trauma. “And we need to work that out, yeah? But we can’t do that if we can’t talk about him. So. Here’s what I’m thinking. We’ll be as indirect as possible. I’ll ask you about him, and you can give answers that are as short or as long as you see fit. If at any moment you feel like we are getting…you know, too close to giving him influence, tell me and we will stop. Does that work?”

He didn’t answer for a long time, shaking slightly, eyes darting around as if looking for something. Then he nodded slowly.

“Great.” Again, Laurens wished she had her journal full of notes. It would be a lot easier to reference past events. But she was stuck with this. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you said before that An—sorry, that he makes you hurt people. Am I right?”

Schneep nodded, starting to rock softly.

That made sense with what she knew. “Does he physically take control of you? How does this happen?”

“He…” Schneep’s voice cracked. “He puts…th-thoughts in my head…a-and makes me want…to…”

And that sounded familiar. Laurens made a note of that. “So…you have thoughts about wanting to hurt people, and this is caused by him?” This sounded like some form of intrusive or otherwise unwanted thoughts, and combined with his hallucinations and delusions, he believed Anti to be behind them.

Schneep nodded. “O-or he…he would say—tell me to do something horrible, and if I did—did not do it, he would do so-something worse.”

“But you clearly don’t want to hurt anyone, right?” Laurens asked.

“No!” Schneep protested. “I never—never! I-I may be angry with some people, maybe fight, but the th-things he makes me—” He buried his head in folded arms, taking deep breaths.

“Do you want us to stop?” Laurens asked gently.

He nodded without looking up.

“Schneep.” Laurens leaned forward. She waited until he looked at her before continuing. “You know this is not your fault, right? You’ve said that to me before. Any thoughts, any actions you may have done, it is not your fault.”

“I know that,” Schneep sounded a bit irritated. “I know that, i-it is him, I just—I still worry, I still…feel…”

“I know,” Laurens said softly. “Which is why I’m going to try to give you some ways to deal with this, okay? Some ways to cope.”

“That would be…appreciated,” he muttered.

“Good. Let’s begin.” This would be a good starting point, but that’s what it was, a starting point. Laurens could already see a long path ahead. The main problem here being that Anti wasn’t actually making any of these thoughts appear in Schneep’s head. But that had to come later down the road. There was still a lot to do before that.
.............................................................................................

“Hey. Wake up.”

Jackie felt something kick his side and he winced, opening his eyes. Anti was standing in front of him, looking down. He stared up at him, tensed, waiting.

“Good,” Anti nodded. “It’s time to eat. Sit up straight.”

Jackie hurried to sit up, the movement making his spine crack. He’d taken to slouching, which probably wasn’t good for his posture when he was tied to a table leg.

Anti huffed, a bit impatient. He kneeled down next to Jackie, reaching around behind him. Jackie stiffened, very deliberately not moving even as he felt the handcuffs unlock. He’d tried to run once before. Schneep had encouraged it, almost demanded that Jackie get out even if it meant leaving him behind. He hadn’t liked it, but he’d listened. And he’d almost made it out of the house. But Anti caught him right at the end, and he hadn’t been happy. Jackie was pretty sure he had some burn scars on his arm from that day. And now, in such close quarters with Anti, who hadn’t left the apartment except for once yesterday, he didn’t want to risk it.

“Alright,” Anti muttered. He’d cuffed Jackie’s right arm to the table leg, letting his left one be free. Now he stood up, grabbing a plate and cup from the table, which he set down on the floor next to Jackie. A sandwich and a glass of milk. It would do. Anti sat down on the nearest chair and pulled out his phone, glancing at Jackie every few seconds. Jackie didn’t respond, just pulled out the gag and started eating. He should hurry.

All was silent for a few minutes. Until: “Wait, what?” Anti sat up straight, eyes scanning his phone again. “That’s—ugh.” He tapped the screen a couple times, then dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. Jackie could hear it ringing from here. The moment the call was picked up, Anti started talking. “Yeah, hi, it’s me. What the fuck?” There were the faint hints of a voice on the other end. “What, did you think I’d just forget your number? No. Now what the fuck is this on the website?” Anti paused. “I think you do know what I’m talking about. I told you, I don’t do repeats.” The voice on the other end sounded angry. “Well if he survived three stab wounds, I’d say he’s earned the right to live. Besides, he hasn’t told anyone, has he? That would’ve been on the news.” Pause. “I don’t do refunds either.”

Jackie couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was he talking about? It sounded like someone hired Anti as some sort of hitman. Was that what he did in his spare time? Or maybe that was his job and this serial killer stuff was just a fun side project for him. Jackie shuddered at the thought of it.

“Well boo-fuckity-hoo for you.” Anti drawled. “Look, I get not wanting loose ends, but I’m done here. I’m busy, I have shit to do, and the cops know about me now.” A long pause as the voice on the other end talked for a while. Anti raised an eyebrow. “Give me two hundred pounds right now and I’ll consider it.” Loud shouting from the other end. “Don’t give me that shit, that’s spare change for you. Tell you what, I’ll check out the guy’s house, too.” Pause. “Yeah, if I decide I want to.” Long pause. “Great. What’s the address again?” Short pause. “No, I didn’t, that would be insane. It was a lot easier to ambush him while he was out. What’s the address.” Another pause. Anti’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, really?” The other voice said something angry. “It’s none of your business. But I’m checking my account now, if the number doesn’t go up by two hundred in the next five minutes, I’m not even gonna think about it.” He hung up the call unceremoniously, and started swiping about on the phone screen again.

Well that was…interesting. Jackie stared at Anti as he seemed to wait for something, eyes glued to his phone. After a short while, he grinned, and looked away, immediately seeing Jackie. He glared. “What’re you looking at, hoodie?”

Jackie flinched and looked away, stuffing the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

“That’s what I thought.” Anti stood up and disappeared through a doorway, into what Jackie assumed was the bedroom area. A few minutes later he returned, wearing a gray hoodie with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He crouched on the floor next to Jackie. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” He chuckled. “No, of course not.” He grabbed Jackie’s wrist and yanked it around the table leg, causing him to cry out. Click. The handcuffs were back in place. Before Jackie could even process that, Anti was shoving the gag back in his mouth, sudden enough to make him choke a bit. “Of course, if you’re not here when I get back…” Anti didn’t have to finish that sentence.

After a moment of staring into Jackie’s eyes, making sure he got the point, Anti stood up and headed out, slamming the front door behind him.

Jackie flinched, then exhaled slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. Alone. Anti would be back soon, of course, but he’d enjoy this while it lasted. Trying to relax as much as he was able while in this awkward position, he tried to drift away in the relieving silence.
.............................................................................................

Anti knew this address.

He drove there, parking some ways away and walking the rest of the way. The neighborhood immediately looked familiar, and by the time he reached the address, he knew where he was going, and wasn’t surprised to stop outside the house of Marvin Maher.

Marvin wasn’t someone he was particularly interested in. He knew enough to get a grasp on him…which was admittedly a lot. 28 years old, Irish, currently unemployed, no living relatives aside from his grandmother, has two cats and a snake, and was a practicing Wiccan. Though those were just the facts. In personality, Marvin was stubborn, loud, very visible with his emotions, and had some difficulty in social situations.

And again, though that was a lot, Anti wasn’t particularly interested in him. Not compared to the other one, Chase. Ironic, considering that for all intents and purposes, Chase lived a much less exciting life. He didn’t go anywhere, had an ex-wife and kids, and ran two YouTube channels for “work:” his own channel, BroAverage, and the one that belonged to his coma-bound friend, jacksepticeye. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so ordinary, stuck in this extraordinary situation, that fascinated him.

But he wasn’t here to find out more about Chase. Anti wasn’t usually one to try again on a job, since it increased his chance of being found, and anonymity was his greatest shield. He’d only decided to consider it due to already being known to the police in this city—a fact that he cursed that doctor lady for every day since she escaped. But now, realizing who his target was made this much more interesting.

Anti circled around the house, scouting it. Looking into the rooms, it appeared empty. All the windows were locked pretty securely, as was the front door…but not so much the side door. He twisted the knob and pulled it open. It looked like a chest of drawers had been pressed against the door from the other side, perhaps to prevent it from opening. He chuckled. This door had a spring hinge; it swung both ways. It also didn’t appear to have a functioning lock. Good, he was happy he didn’t have to pick his way inside and risk someone noticing that.

He pushed the chest of drawers to the side and entered the house, finding himself at the end of a hallway with a door to the left and right. Once inside, he carefully pulled the door shut and replaced the drawers; he could find another exit. The hall opened up into a living room. Anti walked down, careful to tread only where the carpet was worn down so his footsteps wouldn’t stand out. The living room was about normal, its main feature being the snake terrarium. He stared at the snake inside for a bit, but it appeared to be asleep. Huh, he didn’t know snakes could be purple. Mentally making a note to look that up later, he noticed another hallway branching off the living room, and was about to head there when something caught his eye.

A turquoise notebook was lying on the coffee table, looking quite out of place with the rest of Marvin’s decorations. Odd. Was that someone else’s? Anti frowned, and idly picked it up, skimming the pages. There was something tucked inside…a plastic keycard? He looked over the handwritten notes, not paying much attention until he saw a familiar name: Schneep.

He immediately started paying attention to this journal. What was this? He flipped back to the beginning, seeing a name written on the inside cover: Dr. Rya Laurens.

That doctor lady. Anti narrowed his eyes. Was this her notebook? Why did Marvin have it? What was in it? Was he mentioned in it anywhere?

He took his backpack off his shoulders and slid the notebook and its keycard inside. And then he looked up, and happened to glance out the window. Luckily he did in time, because he saw people coming up the front path.

Instinct kicked in and he looked around for the nearest exit. The back window. It only had a latch to lock it. Quickly he ran over, threw it open, and jumped outside, closing it behind him. Now in the backyard, he stayed low, backing up.

Once he was pressed against the fence of the house behind this one, Anti dared to straighten just enough to look through the window into the living room. It appeared as though Marvin had come home. He’d also brought a friend, the only one of the group that he didn’t actually know the name of. That annoyed him. But he just hadn’t seen the others with him that often, and looking up Chase and Marvin on social media, this guy didn’t appear in many photos, and the ones he did show up in never mentioned him by name or tagged an account. All he knew about this last friend was that he had a nice mustache and spoke BSL.

He watched as Marvin set a folder down on the coffee table, apparently not noticing the missing notebook. Marvin started talking with his friend, the two of them signing quickly. Anti huffed. God, it had been so long since he’d had to understand sign language. Not since—Anti stiffened, and pushed that thought away.

The point was, now this group would be forcing him to relearn it. He watched the two inside have an animated conversation, picking up the word ‘doctor’ a lot. It didn’t seem like an argument, but it was very…passionate. Expressions changed rapidly. Marvin made a sign, the letter J twice in a row—

Anti froze, staring. Not caring if he was visible.

He had to have imagined that, didn’t he? Marvin couldn’t have just made that sign. But no, he’d seen that, clear as day. But maybe…maybe the sign meant something different in this context. It couldn’t be…

He looked more closely at the friend he didn’t know the name of. This whole group looked similar, looked like him. That was weird, but it didn’t…didn’t mean…

The friend leaned forward, and something silver flashed. A silver disk on a matching chain around his neck. Anti stared at it, and reached up to where he wore a similar disk on a chain. He’d recognize that anywhere. It wasn’t just a silver circle, it was a watch, and he now grabbed his tightly.

Well, it wasn’t his, technically. It was his brother’s.
.............................................................................................

“So how do names work in sign language, then?” Aneirin asked. “Are you supposed to sign them all out? With letters?”

Jameson picked up his pencil and started writing, showing him the result. 'Goodness, no, that would take forever. There are these things called name signs, which are unique sign combinations for people. Those are their names.'

They were sitting in the living room of Aneirin’s house, legs pulled up onto the old sofa he’d gotten from the side of the road. It was in pretty good condition, for one that had a ‘Free’ sign taped to it. Eighteen and a homeowner would’ve been impressive for anyone else, but Aneirin had sped through the steps to getting it, knowing he needed a place to stay as soon as possible. He was sure that if the realtor knew where he’d gotten the money to pay for it, he never would’ve sold it to him.

“Okay, so what would mine be, then?” Aneirin asked, spreading out along the length of the sofa. “Do I get to choose it?”

Jameson considered this, and Aneirin watched him silently. His little brother was sixteen, and very thin and small, pulling into the corner of the sofa like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. 'Well, I think I have an idea for what I could call you. You can tell me if you don’t like it.' He made the sign for the letter A, and followed it with another sign, curling his hands into fists and rubbing them against each other.

“Well, it depends on what it means,” Aneirin joked.

Jameson chuckled a bit. 'It’s just the letter A followed by the sign for “brother.”'

“Oh.” Aneirin gasped softly. Then a wide smile broke across his face. “Yeah, I like that.” He paused. “Do you have one?”

'Yes! I chose one, but no one’s ever used it.' He signed the letter J twice.

Aneirin blinked. “That’s it? That’s just…JJ.”

'Well it’s my initials,' Jameson pointed out. 'I like the sound of it.'

“Okay,” Aneirin said slowly. He copied the sign. “But when would I ever need to call you that? Instead of just saying it.”

'You are saying it, just in sign,' Jameson wrote. 'But I thought that, if you can’t talk after a bad seizing, you could use BSL.'

“Uh…no, I don’t think so.” Aneirin frowned. “The problem is that after a seizure I’m confused. It’s not that I can’t talk because my muscles don’t work, but cause I don’t know where the fuck I am.”

'Oh. Well, think about it,' Jameson said. 'You need to at least learn it to understand me.'

“Yeah, I know.” Aneirin smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be easy.”
.............................................................................................

“Jamie! Don’t walk away from me!”

Jameson whirled on him. 'Don’t call me that!'

“What? Jamie?” Aneirin blinked. “That’s your name!”

'It’s a nickname,' Jameson signed furiously. 'And it’s a childish one.'

“Oh, what, I can’t call my little brother a nickname now?” Aneirin scoffed.

'That’s not just it!' Jameson protested. 'I’m not a kid, Aneirin! I’m twenty-one years old, I am an adult, and you don’t treat me like it.'

“Okay, yes, legally that’s true,” Aneirin said. “But there’s more to being an adult than age. There’s experience. I mean, look at you. You can’t drive, you don’t have a job, you’ve never dated anyone. There’s just a lot that you don’t understand.”

'I don’t know how to drive because you never taught me!' Jameson stepped up to Aneirin, throwing his hands in his face. 'I don’t have a job because you won’t let me get one! And you’ve never dated anyone either, so I don’t see how you can say anything about that. And even if you had, you turn away every guy I’m interested in. You go through my messages to make sure I don’t say anything “inappropriate” in my own private messages! I need to live my own life, Aneirin.'

“I…” Aneirin was at a loss for words. He couldn’t remember the last time Jameson had gotten this angry, and it was never directed at him. “Look, you’re…twenty-one is still pretty young, and with your condition—”

'You’re only two years older than me,' Jameson signed sharply. 'And don’t talk to me about how my disability means I can’t handle most jobs, I’m sick of hearing it from you. You can’t expect me to help you dispose of a body and at the same time say I couldn’t deal with working in an office. And it’s absurd that you involve me in the former in the FIRST PLACE!'

Aneirin shook his head silently. What was there to say to this? What was there to say when his little brother was angry with him? With words failing, he fell upon action. And he started crying.

Jameson’s expression, previously so furious, turned to shock. Aneirin didn’t cry. Nothing ever seemed to phase him. The sight was concerning. 'No no, don’t—it’s okay, it’s fine,' Jameson hurried to sign.

“I just—just don’t want anything—I just want you to be safe,” Aneirin gasped, vision blurring with tears. “I’m trying—trying to make sure you’re safe, a-and happy, and…am I failing? Am I a bad brother?”

'No, you’re a good brother,' Jameson reassured him. 'You just…made some mistakes.'

“I’m just—th-this is dangerous, what I do.” Aneirin looked down, hiding his eyes in his hands. “People could—could come after you, to get to me, and—and I can’t let that happen, Jamie, JJ, I can’t—I’m sorry if you think I’m stifling you or something, I just—”

'Hey, it’s fine, it’s fine. Really. I just…had some things to get off my chest.' Jameson put his hands on Aneirin’s shoulders reassuringly and smiled.

“Are you sure?” Aneirin asked, wiping his eyes.

'Yes, it’s fine,' Jameson signed. 'We can talk this over later, work things out. I’m sorry for upsetting you.'

“It’s alright, JJ,” Anti said, smiling.
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It really should’ve been obvious from the start. What were the odds of him running into someone else who looked like him and spoke BSL? But the possibility hadn’t even occurred to Anti. Because for four years now, he’d thought his brother Jamie had been dead.

But he was wrong. Jameson wasn’t dead. Jameson was alive, and friends with Chase and Marvin and probably involved with all this, all Anti’s plans.

Anti backed up, then turned around and jumped over the fence into the house behind Marvin’s. He took off in a run.
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The door slammed open, and Jackie startled awake. Anti stormed in, furious. Jackie tried not to cry out when his attention turned towards him, backing up as best as he was able.

“You.” Anti grabbed Jackie by the front of the hoodie and pulled out his gag. “Tell me this. Do you know a man named Jameson Jackson?”

Jameson? Jackie’s heart stopped. What did Anti want with him?

“Answer me!” Anti threw him backwards, and Jackie’s head slammed against the table with a painful crack. “Tell me if you know him or I’ll cut your fingers off one by one.”

“I do, I do,” Jackie gasped. “I know him.”

“How?” Anti demanded. “How do you know him?”

“We—we met him last October,” Jackie explained. “Marvin met him. At the theatre. They started talking, and—and we all met him.”

Anti stared at him a while longer, then suddenly let go, dropping him to the floor. Jackie felt his heart racing. He turned and watched Anti pacing the length of the room.

“Not expecting this,” Anti was muttering. “Unexpected—unexpected variable. Can’t control this. Can’t control for this.” He reached up and grabbed the watch around his neck. “It’ll work. Work around it. Work around—Jamie.” The last word was strong with emotion.

Anti hurried out of the room into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. Jackie flinched. What was Anti planning? It…couldn’t be good for anyone. Especially not Jameson.

Well he couldn’t do anything about it in his current position. He was just worried about surviving. So Jackie tried to put it out of his mind. Yet…there was one thing he couldn’t forget. Had he been imagining it, or had there been tears in Anti’s eyes?